


Small Heart, Made of Steel

by inkfishie



Series: Constant Satellite [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Bonding, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, M/M, Nightmares, Shower Sex, Spoilers for End of Series, Swearing, Wilderness Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-07-24 16:41:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7515553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkfishie/pseuds/inkfishie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i></i><br/>The fight with Zarkon, the battle with the Galra fleet, the crash; It came back in small measures. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Keith finds himself stranded and alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure if I was going to post this to be honest, there a already a lot of amazing fic out there that explore the events after the end of season one. I didn't want to feel like I was beating a dead horse, but had to at least write it before I could move on lol. Anyway, here's my take on it. Follows the events of my previous two fics and is part 3 of the Constant Satellite series. 
> 
> Will be trying to get most of the chapters up as soon as possible, as I'm going on vacation the first week of August. ( YAY PENNSIC!!!) The first draft is entirely done, I'm just editing and all that jazz now :) 
> 
> Follow me on tumblr @ Inkfishie

 

 

 _Sometimes I think I'm not that strong_  
_But there's a force that carries me on_  
_Sick of my small heart, made of steel_  
_Sick of those wounds that never heal_

 

 

 

 

Everything was blaring alarms and flashing purple lights. Amidst it all was the helter-skelter jumble of voices and spinning in a free-fall at hundreds of miles per hour. Panic blared through the com-link, the voices of the others bleeding together in a cacophony of sound. Amidst the chaos, Shiro’s voice rose above the din.

“Keith! Answer me! _Keith!”_

Slamming bodily against his seat, Keith tried to right himself; tried to gain control of his damaged craft that was spinning wildly out of control. There was no time to think, just to react. He yanked hard on the controls, fighting to get them to respond.

_“KEITH!”_

“I’m oka--”

But the words were cut short as the air was punched out of Keith’s lungs by a particularly violent shudder that had him slamming into the side of his seat. His head ricocheted off the unforgiving metal, bouncing it with enough force that stars exploded behind his eyes.

The last thing Keith heard as his vision went dark was Shiro’s panicked howl, and the horrible shrieking buzz of electricity.

 

 

 

When Keith came to, it was to throbbing pain and absolute stillness. Groaning, he opened his eyes only to find that his vision was spotty and blurred. Confused, he blinked several times. A spidery crack ran down the protective glass of his visor, but more curious was the smudge of dried blood across it. His head hurt, along with parts of the rest of him. Carefully, Keith sat up. The dizzy vertigo was immediate, and Keith breathed through it carefully even as he looked around the interior of his lion. It was in a daze that he realized that somehow the world had tipped sideways.

This wasn’t right. Had there been a crash? Scowling in confusion, Keith winced suddenly as he felt a spark of bright pain along his brow. Had he cut himself? That seemed to bring Keith back a bit.

“Ow, shit,” He said out loud, his own voice sounding large and odd in the stillness. When nothing came back across the communication link, Keith found it surprising and more than just a little strange. He tried again.  “Guys. You there?”

Nothing.

“Shiro? Anyone? Hello~?”

Panic was starting to creep in, sending its tingling fingers lancing down into Keith’s gut. He sat up, unfastening himself from the pilot’s chair and clambered forward toward the console. All the screens were dark and powered down. There was an impressive crack down the glass of one of the lion’s “eyes” and Keith belatedly noticed the other had been blown out entirely. Still, Keith couldn’t quite rationalize what he was seeing. He pressed his palms to the console, frowning when nothing happened. He gripped the controls, giving them a push.

Nothing. Trying again yielded the same response.

“ _C’mon_ , Red,” Keith urged, perhaps a bit desperately. But still there wasn’t so much as a flicker from the screens.

Okay. This was okay. There was no need to get worked up. But then, unbidden, came a sobering thought: Could a Lion die? Though they were machines, there was still some sort of sentient spark that worked in tandem with the mechanical parts. Even Pidge was often at a loss for how their vessels really worked. But what if one was damaged beyond the point of repair? Could the life-force survive with the machinery broken? What if Red was past the point of salvage? Would Allura be able to find them if only the great hulking shell of the creature survived?

The dread became a crushing weight of a thing. It caught Keith’s thoughts and sent them raveling tighter and tighter until his lungs squeezed to gasping. He sat down hard, ripping off his helmet and chucked it aside.

“Okay.” He said out loud. “Okay, okay oka--”

_Easy, Cadet._

Keith pinched his eyes shut. Shiro’s voice, low and easy intruded on his thoughts. Keith focused on it, imagined though it was, and forced his lungs to fill slowly and evenly. After a time, he felt marginally better, though his skin still buzzed with anxious energy.

He needed to make a plan, to deal with what was immediately in front of him and focus on the rest after he’d come up with a strategy of survival. The dead console would have to remain as it was, because Keith knew very little in the way of mechanics. Tuning up a hover-bike was one thing, trying to fix an alien fighter ship with a consciousness was another thing entirely. Still, it didn’t stop Keith from closing his eyes and reaching for his lion’s energy. He had to know if Red was still there.

“Hey, Red,” He asked quietly. “You okay? I don’t feel you.”

No response. Keith frowned, and took another steadying breath. He’d have to try harder. So he swallowed down the lick of fear he knew he was projecting and forced himself to focus. It took a moment, but once Keith found his concentration he was able to feel the threads that still connected him to his lion. Groping clumsily out along that connection then, Keith drew himself deeper and deeper into his mind. Further and further he went, until he was sure that there must be something looming just ahead.

It was like a balloon bursting. Large and infinite, then nothingness. Absolute, unyielding nothingness. It was like a free-fall, a spinning, endless void. Gasping, Keith tried to break himself free of it, to claw his way back to the surface; but he was drowning, being pulled under by the heavy crush of it. It felt like being sucked up and out into the endless vastness of space, with nowhere to go. It must have been mere moments, but to Keith it felt like it lasted a life-time. Then something hot, and sharp and angry was slamming Keith away.

Keith flung his eyes open with a gasp. He was shaking and sprawled out on the tipped floor. A wave of anger not his own was washing over him and Keith felt a stinging rebuke vibrating out along the connection he shared with his lion.

“Red,” He wheezed, shuddering. Relief was a thing that stung Keith’s eyes with tears. Feeling weak, and perhaps a touch feverish Keith pushed himself upright. “You’re okay.” He was saying now, though he wasn’t sure exactly who it was he was addressing. He scrubbed at his eyes.

“You’re okay. Keith repeated. He followed it with a steadying breath. “You’re alive.”

 

 

***

 

As it turned out, Keith had been very lucky. Being flung out into space in a foundered vessel was not without its dangers, though Keith suspected that his lion had rallied in the moments before crashing to keep him as safe as it could. The planet they had crashed on seemed to be similar enough to Earth in that Keith was able to breath normally, albeit a bit more shallowly, without having any negative side-effects. He knew that there were planets that had atmospheres that were caustic to humans so Keith counted himself lucky that he hadn’t landed on one of those; especially considering the state of his ship and his armor.

The topography wasn’t unlike that surrounding the Garrison, and Keith was glad that they had crashed into a sandy dune rather than the jagged cliff formation nearby. It hadn’t been a graceful landing, but at least it hadn’t been one that had torn Keith’s lion to shreds. Though with half the ship buried in sand it was hard to tell just how extensive the damage was.

Even getting out of the ship had been something of a ponderous excursion. With systems down, going out through the lion’s mouth had been impossible. But after some exploration, Keith had finally managed to extricate himself via the broken eye shield at the front of the cockpit. Out on the lion’s snout, he realized that he could slide down the sand that the ship’s massive head was partially buried against. He had to walk a fair distance to get a proper look at the damage, but once he did he frowned at the picture his lion made.

Body tipped on its side, he noted how badly damaged the lion was. Its head was angled awkwardly into the dune behind it, its legs were a heap of twisted, scraped up metal and exposed wiring. There was also a jagged, blackened scar of a mark that licked across the lion’s flank and up across its back that reminded Keith of a tin can that had been hastily cut open with a large knife. It made Keith’s stomach turn, and guilt ripped through him. He had caused that. His anger and rage and need to have revenge against Zarkon. Pretending that it had all been for Shiro’s sake was a lie that turned to ash in his mouth as soon as he saw the damage he had caused.

“Oh, Red. I’m so sorry.” He said, quiet and broken.

Sinking down heavily in the sand, Keith loosed a shuddering breath. Sick at heart, and feeling sorry for himself he suddenly realized how terrifically alone he was. It felt like the world had come to a shuddering halt. It felt like the day Shiro had found him in the training hall at the Garrison, face grim and eyes red, to tell him that Oba was gone. It felt like the moment, heart in his throat, that Keith had watched Shiro's ship launch into space to take his only family with it. It felt like seeing the evening news and having his whole world crash around him. It felt like Keith was by himself again, only this time it was infinitely worse.

Somewhere out there, Keith thought, his friends were probably as lost as he was. He wondered if they were in danger, if they were as hurt and alone as he felt. A sudden squeeze of fear caught him up when he remembered that Shiro had been injured before they’d been flung out of the wormhole. Keith hadn’t seen it, but he’d heard the chatter over the com-link before he and Shiro had been pulled out of the hanger.

He drew in a shaky breath. It did no good to think like that. Keith had to focus, on both his own survival and the knowledge that the others would be doing the same. Each of them was suited in their own way to fight through whatever it was they were dealing with. They would make it. Keith would make it.

The thought ought to have made him feel better, he supposed. But it did nothing to soothe the ache in Keith’s chest, nor did it help the hard knot of worry twisting up his guts. Glancing up to the sky, Keith sighed. Above him, the sun shone in a faintly purple- tinted, but blue sky. He was starting to get hot, and he wasn’t entirely sure how much light he would have left. He turned his gaze to the vastness of white sand stretching out before him. There were things to be done, because once the sun set Keith knew that the heat he was cursing now would leave him; To say nothing of what dangers might be lurking out under the hot sands.

“Okay. Let’s get to work, Red.” Keith said, more for his own benefit than actually needing to verbally communicate with the lion. It gave no outward response, but Keith did feel the faint thrum of approval through his connection.

 

 

 

The first thing Keith did was to take stock of what he had for emergency supplies. At Shiro’s insistence all of the lions had been outfitted for emergency situations, and while all of the paladins had groaned at the extra work at the time, Keith was thanking his lucky stars that their leader happened to be so diligent. His chest squeezed in relief as he pried open the storage bins toward the back of the flight deck. Most of it was relatively intact. The med kit had exploded open during impact, and he’d lost one of his large jugs of water, but other than that he had a decent stock of things; an emergency transmitter included.

It was a bit banged up, but Keith felt easier when, after pressing the button, the device lit and appeared to work. Keyed specifically to the castle and the other lions, Keith wouldn’t have to worry about drawing an entire Galra fleet down upon him, no thanks to Pidge and Hunk’s tinkering.

“Thanks, guys,” He said, glancing upwards. Then, to the lion Keith said: “At least they know we’re out here now. Hopefully they’ll find us soon.”

It was funny, Keith mused. He’d never really been one to talk to himself much. He supposed in this situation though, it was a bit different, mostly because Keith found that the stillness here was itchy and unbearable; especially after the noise and energy that came with living with the others in the castle. Keith had grown used to the constant hum of machinery, the loud exuberance of his fellow paladins and even being around other people more consistently. Even a fight with Lance would have been preferable to the quietness that enveloped him.

Heaving a sigh, Keith continued pulling out the jumble of supplies to lay them out before him. When all was said and done he’d reorganized the med kit which contained a number of medical and survival items. He also had the following at his disposal: Two large jugs of water, an emergency blanket, binoculars, a length of rope, meal bars to last up to a week or two (Some had been squashed in the crash but were otherwise edible.), a heavy plastic tarp, and a collection of long, metal rods. The rods, according to Pidge, were meant to form a portable particle barrier. There were eight in total, and if the trials were anything to go by, they could create a barrier that would be large and powerful enough to contain and surround the whole of Keith’s downed lion.

“Looks like we’re not that bad off, eh, Red?” Keith asked the lion even as he swung his gaze in the direction of the console. There was no denying he felt a bit better now; more secure now that he had a purpose to cling to. And with the particle barrier up he could go explore his surroundings a bit. Hauling himself to his feet, Keith gathered the rods up. His aching limbs protested a bit, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t deal with. He’d live.

Using the length of rope to tie the rods together, Keith then began the long process of clambering out of the lion and setting the barrier up around the perimeter of the ship. It was hard to tell how far the downed lion extended into the slippery sand of the dune, but he did his best. By the time Keith had set the rods up in the proper formation however, he was struggling under both the heat of the sun and the shifting earth beneath his feet. The ache of his injuries had gone from a dull throb, to a pounding soreness that was distracting, which had him blustering out curses when he discovered that one of the rods was malfunctioning and he had to move and reset the lot of them.

When Keith finally stumbled back up the sand to clamber up into the vessel, he was exhausted and miserable. His dark hair hung in sopping, lifeless hanks around his head and sweat was running down his back in rivulets causing the heavy fabric of his suit to cling uncomfortably to his body.

“This sucks,” He groaned unhappily. “Why couldn’t we have crashed some place less hot?” The lion didn’t respond, but Keith thought he felt his misery being mirrored back at him. Flopping down on the floor, he reached for the jug of water. It was only the sobering thought that this might be all the water he had that kept Keith from chugging it recklessly.

He rested a bit, then was glancing about the empty flight deck balefully. With little enthusiasm Keith thought of going to check out the rocky outcropping nearby to see if he couldn’t find anything to burn for heat once night set it. His head hurt though, and so did his chest and ribs for that matter. He suspected it was from being thrashed about in the pilot’s seat during the fall and subsequent crash. Keith was actually somewhat surprised he hadn’t sustained worse injury, to be honest; though his armor _was_ worse for wear. Sighing, Keith lay back to stare up at the tipped ceiling of the cockpit.

“I wonder what the others are doing.” He mused quietly, ignoring the tendril of worry that was snaking its way from his gut to settle just under his breast bone. Of course there was no answer, not from the stillness or Keith’s pensive lion.

 

 

***

 

 

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. But the weight of the past few days finally caught up and demanded payment for the toll Keith had taken on his body. His dreams were dark, nebulous things filled with the feeling of being hunted by something that Keith could not see. Crackling, violet electricity in the shape of two glowing eyes followed him through dark, twisting corridors. But no matter how fast Keith ran, no matter how quickly he darted around corners and down each hallway, he was always one step too slow. He woke with a start, shivering and confused. Groggily, he wondered why it was so cold and dark; why he hurt all over.

“Takashi?” Keith’s voice was small, raspy and foreign to his own ears.

Disoriented and feeling utterly wretched, Keith looked around. He was in his lion, shivering from cold and all by himself. The fight with Zarkon, the battle with the Galra fleet, the crash; It came back in small measures. Keith grunted out a soft, distressed noise. In the darkness, his eyes began to adjust and the faint glow of the particle barrier was just enough to provide some illumination to the interior of the flight deck.

“Fuck it. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep like that, Red,” Keith said as he squinted through the dark, looking for the blanket he knew was somewhere nearby.

He needed to warm up, already his teeth were chattering. But what Keith really needed was a fire, and he grimaced rather morosely at the thought. Had he not fallen asleep he might have one right now. Finally spotting the blanket, Keith made a grab for it then shook it out with stiff fingers before wrapping it around himself. Shuffling up into the pilot’s seat, Keith curled in on himself. After a few long moments he felt somewhat warmer, enough so that the clacking and rattling of his teeth had ceased.

It was a rookie mistake, and now Keith would have to suffer the consequences. He pulled his body closer in on itself, feeling suddenly pathetic and very, very small. He found himself reaching out tentatively toward his lion, cautious in the wake of his last fuck up.

“Red?”

There was a faint ripple and the distinct feeling of being at the wrong end of someone’s displeasure. Keith tried again, but after several long moments, during which there was no response, he gave up with a sigh. Keith tugged the blanket closer. He knew he wouldn’t sleep again tonight, so he settled in for the long haul.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time sunrise came to whatever planet it was that Keith was stranded on, he was feeling sore and worn-out. He’d spent hours keeping his mind carefully blank, trying not to think about Shiro and the others or the strange dreams he’d had. He’d simply been waiting for the sun. When it came, it was a sliver of light across the horizon; fiery and bright. Had it not been for the fact that Keith was alone and on alien soil, he might’ve thought himself back on earth in his little house on the edge of a barren wilderness.

Oranges and yellows streaked the sky, giving way to the progression of familiar blues and a deeper purple. It broke his heart a bit, if he were being honest. Devastating and lovely, Keith was suddenly feeling more sick for home than he ever had in the year that Shiro had been dead. He gave himself to it for a long moment, then scrubbing at his damp eyes, he’d picked himself up and got about business.

It wouldn’t be long before it was too hot to move about outside, so the best time for an exploration was now. Keith would conserve more energy and resources if he were smart about moving in his environment, and being that it was one he was familiar with (At least to Earth standards), he had mapped out what he believed to be a fairly solid plan.

Making a quick meal of some water and a nutrition bar, Keith hauled himself out of his lion and slid down to the desert floor below. Bayard and helmet in hand and a length of rope coiled over his shoulder, Keith trekked to the boundary of the particle barrier. Once there, he paused, suddenly apprehensive. The barrier had been programmed to let only the paladins, or the Princess and Coran in and out. Even so, Keith wasn’t sure if the equipment had been damaged in the crash. He glanced backward at the lion.

“Well, we’ll never know unless I try.” He said, steeling himself to step through the particle barrier.

Pulling on his helmet, Keith took a breath and stepped through. There was a moment of anxiety as he turned to shuffle backward, but he passed back through with no resistance. Relief coursed through him, and Keith felt much easier about having to leave Red. He didn’t plan on being gone any longer than he had to, the sun was making its steady climb overhead and Keith didn’t want to be out in the sand when it reached its zenith. Turning in the direction of the rocky outcropping then, Keith started off toward it at a steady trot.

It didn’t take nearly as long as he’d thought it would take. Twenty ticks at the most, Keith estimated. But there really wasn’t much there. A craggy rock face rose from the sands, punctuated by a number of smaller, scattered boulders and jabbing rubble. He did however find a number of prickly, dead tumble weeds that would burn quickly. Keith made quick work of the ones that he found, cutting them into manageable pieces with his bayard before lashing them together.

A quick exploration of the perimeter yielded the discovery of a small cavern, and several small, tree-like structures jutting from stone like the bleached bones of a grasping hand. Once he’d cut them through, he stored the lot of his haul in the cavern and decided he would climb to the top of the stone shelf. It was difficult with the strain on his aching limbs, but once Keith reached the top, he was able to see for miles.

It was a disappointment. The horizon on all sides was sand, sand and sand. In the distance he could see where he’d crashed, and the faint glimmer of the particle barrier in the sun. But that was the only anomaly in the otherwise flawless sprawl of white sand. Keith felt his heart sinking into his toes.

 

_You’re okay. They’ll find you._

 

Keith had to keep telling himself that. For now though, it was time to get back to Red. Sweat was starting to trickle down the back of his neck, and the heat was starting to become oppressive and heavy. Keith resolved to come back tomorrow for some of the other dead timber dotting his current vantage point so that he would have more fuel to burn. Carefully moving back down the rock-face, he stopped to bundle up his haul before turning to make his way back across the sand.

The trip back took much longer than it should have. Under both the heat of the sun, and the weight of his dragging burden, Keith struggled. By the time he trudged back through the particle barrier, he was wheezing and grunting with every step. He was hot, and swamped by the sweaty moistness of his clothes. Keith felt disgusting.

“I’m back, Red.” He announced, making the final push to the shade along the lion’s flank very near its great, lolling head. He flopped down in to, panting. Peeling off his helmet, Keith tossed it aside and allowed his own head to roll backward against hard metal lazily. He desperately wanted some water, but settled for simply not moving instead.

“Anything exciting happen while I was gone?” He quipped, not without sarcasm. There was a faint ripple, but no real response. It was fine though, speaking to the lion was more for Keith’s own benefit than anything else. It eased the ache of loneliness.

“At least I won’t be cold tonight. It’s been a while since I had a bonfire,” He reflected, and couldn’t help the grin that split his face at a sudden memory. “Shiro and I used to have bonfires at his Oba’s sometimes. She let us cook hotdogs and shit like that.”

 Keith wasn’t sure why the memory came to mind, or why he was even speaking about it but he was still smiling faintly as he continued.

“One time I slipped in the sand because I was running and nearly fell on top of the fire. Oba lost her damned mind, she thought I got embers in my eyes and made me keep them shut until we got to the doctor’s. She swore in Japanese all the way to town. I didn’t have eyebrows for a month.”

It wasn’t funny, not really. But Keith huffed out a laugh as he allowed his eyes to slip shut. He still remembered the feeling of the wind whipping through the open windows of the beat up truck, the stinging heat of the flame on his face; Shiro’s presence tense and quiet beside him on the battered seat. He’d held Keith’s hand as they’d raced through the chill desert night and whispered a hushed assurance into his ear when Oba’s cursing had finally petered out.

 

_“You’ll be okay, she’s just worried about you.”_

 

Keith exhaled, feeling the heavy ache of longing settle itself on his chest. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t give to be in the back of that beat up old truck just then. But Earth was lightyears away, and the only family he had now was somewhere flung out amongst the stars. Fiercely Keith hoped that the others were okay; That Shiro was okay.

 

 

 

The remainder of the day Keith spent hiding inside the cooler portion of the crashed lion. With the ship partially buried, it was actually quite cool in the space that made up the lion’s closed mouth. So Keith had moved down there after relocating his supplies, and flopped backward to rest his head on his bunched up blanket. He’d also brought a stick, which he hacked a notch in for the sunrise he’d seen that morning. As he set it aside, he hoped that he wouldn’t have to add many more marks to the stick. Beside him, the beacon glowed steadily, and Keith watched it for several ticks before rolling over on to his side to try and get some rest.

Sleep came in fits and bursts though, and it was punctuated by dreams that he was falling and falling and falling into a fire that consumed indiscriminately. Keith woke screaming as the sun waned with the image of flames melting the flesh from the faces of his friends seared into his eyelids. Their screams, imagined though they were, were bouncing off the inside of his skull. Having bolted upright, he sat for a long minute with his hands clamped over his ears. When he’d managed to regulate his breathing, he heaved himself up right and made his way to the flight deck, blanket in hand.

Keith spent another night in the cold in the dark. Too shaken to consider building a fire of his own, he’d curled up in the pilot’s seat and watched as the last of the daylight faded from the sky to give way to night. The stars winked merrily in a swathe of inky darkness, split only by the pale oranges and pinks of a foreign galaxy lightyears away. For all Keith’s homesickness it was lovely, and he found a measure of comfort in the familiarity of watching the stars on a cool desert night. When sleep finally caught him again, it was deep and dreamless.

 

 

A pattern emerged after that second night. During the morning Keith would venture out to further explore the rocky cliff face and often return with a bundle of fuel in hand. The hottest parts of the day were reserved for sleeping down in the mouth of the lion, though more often than not it was merely Keith waiting out the heat in a state of restless fugue. His sleep was often plagued with nightmares, or strange dreams of calling out to something that could not hear him.

The evenings he spent huddled in the sand beside the lion’s head, often times staring pensively into a fire. Sometimes he would speak to the lion, but more often than not he spent his time in silence.

Several days passed this way, and Keith took a notch out of the stick for each one. There were five in total when on a scouting mission to the rocky outcropping, he spotted a strange bird-like creature. It was large, and closely resembled a buzzard; though where there would be feathers on the earthly creature, there was instead reptilian-like scales. Its fleshy, pink head was grotesque and misshapen, it’s sharp beak bleached and white as bone. Bulbous, yellow eyes protruded from its skull, and Keith knew he’d been spotted the second he came upon the thing.

Thankfully, he was able to put it down before it scored him with its dagger like talons. It hadn’t liked him intruding upon its territory, and Keith had separated its head from its body with a clean swipe of his bayard before it had gotten too close. A spray of red ichor had oozed from the body and had splashed the stone beneath it, and Keith grimaced at the smell. Afterward, he hauled the thing back to the crash site. If anything, Keith decided, he could attempt a meal out of it. He had eaten stranger things after all.

Hacking the creature into pieces proved to be more difficult and bloody than he’d anticipated. Still, by the time the sun had begun to set Keith was cooking chunks of meat over an open flame. It hadn’t smelled too bad, and actually tasted fairly palatable despite being charred; not unlike a tough steak with a vague gamey after taste. An hour later however and Keith was fiercely regretting his decision to sample the delights of alien meat. He spent the night puking his guts out in the desert sand. By the morning light, weak and shivery, Keith crawled back inside his lion where he spent the day in misery as his guts burbled and rolled.

Red was apathetic to his pain, and Keith even got the impression she thought he deserved it. As it was, Keith carved two more notches on the stick before he was feeling completely better. It was on the morning of the second day since the ‘lizard bird’ incident, as Keith called it, that he noticed something was amiss.

Crawling out into a cool, desert morning, Keith could already tell that there had been a shift in the atmosphere. There was a charge in the air that prickled his skin and told Keith that something was coming.

“A storm,” He realized, turning his gaze to the heavens. There was nothing yet, no indication save for the faint buzz of electricity. But it was familiar, and Keith had learned from Oba to read the weather more easily than he’d learned most things and could tell by the prickling of his skin that whatever it was that was coming would be there before the day was out.

Keith spurred to action, one word pounding through his skull; Rain. There was no assurance that it would happen of course, any sort of precipitation was a rare thing in any sort of desert environment, but Keith wanted to be ready just in case. Especially given the state of his own water supply. He’d been careful of course, only consuming enough to take the edge off ache of dehydration pounding through his skull. Even so, Keith was slowly and steadily running out of water. He had a few days left at best. The chance to replenish at least a bit of it was one he had to take despite the obvious risks.

Climbing back up into Red, Keith went for his supplies. Snatching the plastic tarp, and the busted up jug he was in and out in the matter of a few short moments.

“Looks like we might have a lucky break, Red.,” Keith said as he began to dig out an indentation in the sand. Once completed he lined it with the tarp and pushed sand atop the flapping edges to keep it weighted down. Make-shift rain barrel complete, Keith sat back with a grin. “Might have to go for a swim if this thing fills up.”

Frivolous though the idea was, Keith would’ve killed for a cold shower just then. Or even a hot one for that matter, he could only imagine how badly he reeked.

“I’ll have my own little village set up by the time those idiots get here,” He said fondly, a small smile curling the corners of his cracked lips. “I bet Lance wouldn’t have even thought of something like this.”

The smile faded though as a small tendril of worry curled around the place in the middle of his chest. He stubbornly pushed it aside and stood up. Thinking about the others was not going to help Keith at all, so he resolved not to. He turned back to Red to finish preparing for the storm.

 

In the end, the weather didn’t change until the sun had all but sunk from the horizon. Huddled inside his lion, Keith watched as clouds began to roll like angry waves out across the sky. Dark and foreboding, they blotted out the fading orange light and brought with them a rush of charged air that had Keith’s hair standing on end. The lightning, when it came, was unlike anything Keith had ever seen. It struck in such a way, that Keith could hear the zing of it before it flashed out across the sky. It stole the breath from his lungs and made him feel just a bit small and scared.

Of course it reminded him of Shiro, and how they often would sit on the roof at the Garrison and watch storms roll in across the flat expanse laid out before them. It reminded him of how they’d wait, grinning as the wind picked up, for the storm wall to approach. Then, running and breathless they would bolt back inside, rain quick on their heels.

But the storms on earth had never been so intense, the lightning never so frequent, and the thunder never so loud. More than once a bolt struck the particle barrier, leaving the hiss of electricity and smell of burnt hair in its wake. Fearfully Keith wondered what would happen if the barrier were to fail, if the ship were to be struck while he was in it. Suddenly he was 8 years old, huddled fearfully in a cupboard.

Keith shut his eyes, counted back from 10 and pictured Shiro’s face; Eyes alight, the smell of rain in his hair and an easy grin stretched across his beautiful mouth.

There had been a storm a few days after Shiro had left for Kerberos. Keith had watched it alone from the Garrison roof and had been soaked to the skin by the time be finally went inside. For some reason being here now felt the same. Keith let out a long, drawn out breath, unable to push aside his loneliness.

 

 Overhead the thunder continued to crash and roar.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm leaving for a couple weeks on the 4th to go camping in Pennsylvania and I'm not sure if I'll have time for the next chapter before then. I'll try, but I have a lot of packing/sewing/shopping left to do in preparation. As always you can find me on tumblr for updates in regard to fic and other nerdery. Hit me up @ Inkfishie :) 
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

 

By the next morning the crackling edge of electricity had left the air. It was still hot, Keith noted, as he crawled out onto Red’s nose, but it seemed to be a little less so. He checked the rods of the particle barrier first, then hurried to the spot where he’d set up the tarp to collect the rain water. There wasn’t much there, and the hot spark of frustrated anger was immediate and all consuming. Cursing, Keith kicked violently at the sand.

“Fuck it!!” He shouted, spinning to wail out at the jug with his foot. He nearly toppled it, and its meager contents out before he had the sense to stop himself. Riotous discomposure bloomed suddenly in his chest, and Keith had to stop and reign himself in lest he make a rash decision.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Relax.” He told himself. He thought of Shiro, of his fingers in Keith’s hair the last time they had woken up tangled together; peaceful and quiet.

 

_I’ve got you._

 

The frantic thrumming against Keith’s ribs slowed and he took a breath. Somehow losing Shiro a second time was proving to be more difficult than the first. Keith put the thought out of his head. He put all thoughts out of his head and focused on the task ahead of him. He’d think about it later.

In the end, it really hadn’t been as bad as he’d initially thought. After all, some water was better than no water. What had collected in the tarp was enough to fill a little less than half the jug which would buy him time in the long run. Cautious in the wake of his last botched attempt to live off the land, Keith made sure to filter the water as best he could before dropping a few tabs from his kit into it. They made the water fizz and turn an alarming shade of magenta before it settled and became clear again.

According to Coran the tabs were designed to clear most harmful, alien contaminants from a drinking supply. Keith wasn’t sure he trusted it entirely, but took a tentative sip anyhow. There was no odd taste, so he counted it a win for now. Just to be safe though, he decided to alternate between the water he’d had before and what he’d collected from after the rain storm.

When evening finally set in, Keith spent it brooding over his loneliness next to a fire in the shadow of his lion. He felt as though he was...Slipping. The days were starting to blur together in a way that left him feeling like he had stepped outside himself; like he was watching his life unfold from afar. It was the way he’d felt in those days after Shiro had been reported lost. But it wasn’t only Shiro this time. It was Hunk, Pidge and Lance. Even the Princess and Coran. They had become important to Keith, they had become family.

Keith scowled. He’d never asked for this; never asked to feel this way about a rag-tag group of strangers. Darkly, he wondered if it would have been better if he had never met them; if Shiro had never come back. But the thought was quashed as soon as it crossed his mind and Keith loosed as soft, pained noise. He felt terrible for thinking it. Huddling closer to his lion, Keith tipped his head back to rest it against Red’s hull. He felt a rumbling shiver of her presence. They had both been brooding it seemed.

“I miss them too, Red.” He confessed quietly, then swiped angrily at his face and the moisture that had collected in the corners of his eyes.

A sudden thought came to Keith then, and the revelation of it brought a hard knot to the base of Keith’s throat. He swallowed around it, but couldn’t help the pitchy highness that his tone had taken on.

“You were alone all this time.” Keith realized, and felt an answering crush of sadness punctuated by a stab of anger. “You’ve been by yourself this whole time and had no idea what happened to the rest of them.” He said.

Ten thousand years. Red had lost her paladin and the others and had been by herself for ten thousand years. There was no telling how long she had been in the hands of the Galra, or what had happened to her previous pilot, (Or any of the previous pilots for that matter.) but Red had been alone for hundreds of years and had been forced to endure it all.

Keith wondered what happened to a lion when their pilot died, if they felt it through the connection, and found himself stricken with the sudden, horrible awareness that she born witness to it all. A shiver of grief not his own spiked through him and Keith gasped.

“I’m such an asshole.” He admitted, scrubbing at the tears that now flowed freely down his face. There was an answering vibration of agreement, but concession as well. Keith’s apology, such as it was, had apparently been accepted. He felt a bit better, if only because now he didn’t feel quite so alone. There was a measure of comfort in that.

Falling quiet again, Keith turned his gaze up to the stars. He spent the night huddled against the battered metal of Red’s jaw. He watched the stars until they disappeared from the sky.

 

 

***

 

 

Keith hacked four more marks in the stick and there was still no indication that anyone had picked up on his location yet. He ate the last portion of his meal bars on a particularly hot morning. It was fine though, Keith noted grimly. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t gone hungry before. True that Garrison life, and even life on board an Altean ship had gotten him used to three square meals a day, but he would live. As for the water, he was running short on that as well, but there was at least several days left if he was scrupulous.

After that he wasn’t quite sure what he would do, but Keith would just have to cross that bridge when he got to it. His options, after all, were exceedingly limited. Briefly he’d toyed with the idea of setting off across the sands to look for help. That plan had filled him with such anxiety however, that he immediately put that plan out of mind. It was too much of a gamble, and he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Red were he not to make it.

But with nothing to do and all that anxious energy making his skin itch, Keith finally opted to make a trip over to the rocks. There was really nothing more to discover there, but at least scouring for more fuel to burn would give him something to do. It was better than wallowing in self-pity at any rate.

So Keith had stubbornly set off across the sand in that direction. He was halfway there when he began to regret the decision. There was a strange sort of stagnancy to the air and the heat hung over the landscape like a sweltering, suffocating blanket. It was unsettling, and set Keith’s nerves on edge. Dismissing it as nothing however, Keith trudged doggedly on.

By the time he’d made it, he was dripping sweat. The protective suit beneath his armor was soaked through, and almost Keith wished he’d stripped the battered layer of Altean metal off before venturing out. A breath of wind suddenly kicked up, and Keith sighed as he slumped down in the shade of a large rock.

“If I ever get off this fucking planet I will never complain about being too hot ever again.” He said with a sigh.

He wasn’t sure if Red could actually _hear_ him from this distance, but he was sure he could feel the tingle of the lion’s company in the back of his mind. Grimacing at the swampy trickle of moisture running down his back, Keith stood and made his way toward the larger outcropping of rock so that he could climb to the top.

It was a short, if not strenuous climb, but by the time Keith had reached the top a hot wind was whipping across his face and it felt almost nice. He pulled off his helmet, letting the gusts catch the ends of his sweat-soaked hair.

“That’s more like it.” Keith panted out. Red rumbled out a response that was curiously impatient.

Keith found himself frowning a bit at it, but then he was shrugging and wandering over to the edge of the cliff face to look out over the horizon. From his vantage point he could see the faintly flickering dome of the particle barrier, and although Red wasn’t visible in the slightest behind the slope of a dune Keith could feel her becoming agitated and restive.

The wind picked up, and Keith found that he was starting to feel a little uneasy again as well. Pulling his helmet back on, Keith caught something out of the corner of his eye. At first he wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing, it loomed in the distance like a strange puff of smoke. But a gust of wind whooshed past Keith’s the face, bringing with it a spray of debris and then it clicked:

A sandstorm.

Back home they had been a fairly common occurrence. Summer thunder storms often kicked up the wind and dust in the days following a good blow, but this was nothing compared to what was pounding its way in Keith’s direction. The cloud of debris was easily three times as large as anything Keith had ever experienced living at the Garrison, or even when he’d been living in Oba’s little house. It stretched across the horizon, blotting everything in its wake. When Keith realized there was no way he was going to be able to make it back to Red it was like a kick in the chest. The storm was moving way too fast.

Fear flared bright and sharp beneath his breastbone and for several ticks Keith stood rooted to the spot where he stood. Then came the rush of adrenaline and a thought that was not so much a voice as it was a snarl and snapping, angry jaws.

 

_MOVE!_

 

Keith’s body obeyed even where his mind had not quite caught up. Scrambling to the precipice of the rock face, Keith hauled himself over the edge and back down toward the desert floor. Around him the wind was starting to become angry and fierce, and he knew he’d have to make a dash for the small cavern he’d discovered days earlier.

There was a buzz of apprehension not entirely his own that was electrifying his hot, clammy skin. Keith buried the feeling as he scuttled down over the rocks with a burst of increased speed. Then, alarmingly, he felt himself slipping.

There was nothing he could do, and for one terrifying moment there was the feeling of weightlessness and of empty air. Then Keith was pitching downwards gracelessly, bouncing off the unforgiving surface of the craggy rocks in the process. He felt his jaw hit something, then his side. When Keith finally landed the air was punched from his lungs, even as an explosion of pain erupted from his shoulder. He gasped uselessly, and for one panicked moment Keith thought he might die. But then his lungs filled painfully and he rolled to the side, wheezing and blinking the tears from his eyes.

In the distance there came the hideous shriek of metal above the howl of the wind. It rang in his ears like the scream of an angry, wounded animal and he gritted his teeth against it. Suddenly he was drowning in a crush of terror, and it took a moment for Keith’s addled brain to recognize it was not his own.

“I’m _okay!_ ” He yelled, closing his eyes against a wave of nausea.

It was too much. Red’s presence was eclipsing his own sense of self and Keith struggled to push back against it. He was like a moth beating against the light of a naked bulb trying to escape the blaze of it.

“Red, _STOP_! I’m okay!” Keith roared, even as the tenuous grip he had on his own consciousness began to ravel.

Red withdrew suddenly, leaving Keith gasping in the sand. Distantly he was aware that the sky was getting darker, that it was taking on a strange, hazy hue. Keith knew he had to get up, had to get moving or he’d be choking on sand. But for a fleeting moment it seemed appealing to give up, to leave behind the excruciating pain that radiated through the whole of his body.

Stubbornly however, Keith pushed himself upright with a pained scream of fury. Giving up meant death, giving up meant never seeing Shiro or any of the others ever again.

Keith wouldn’t leave Shiro like that. He couldn’t.

Dizziness threatened to lay Keith flat out on his back again, and it was grimly that he noted that something was wrong with his dominant arm. It hung limply at his side as he got his feet underneath him and staggered through the sand toward the cave. Pain was throbbing hot and unforgiving throughout his shoulder, and he was forced to take short, shallow breaths for the sharpness along his flank when he tried to breathe too deeply.

Broken ribs, he thought with a scowl. Keith was suddenly glad he hadn’t taken off his armor earlier like he’d intended. The thought that Keith might not be walking away from his fall now had he done so was sobering. The sky was just starting to spit sand and debris as he stumbled into the small stony egress. He moved to the back before collapsing in a heap against the hard rock.

 

_Breathe. Just breathe._

It hurt though, it hurt all over. Gingerly lifting his good arm, Keith struggled to get his helmet off. He’d barely done so before he was pitching forward to empty the meager contents of his stomach all over the floor of the small cavern. The action had the pain in his sides ratcheting up to a bright, dizzying spark of absolute agony. It zinged through Keith’s skull and made his vision go spotty and dark. For a moment, Keith thought he might pass out; he nearly did. But after slumping backward so that he could concentrate on breathing through it, Keith found that his equilibrium slowly returned.  

Outside the wind howled, sending a spray of grit pinging off the entrance of the cave. Keith took a careful, slow breath. His ribs throbbed painfully and unbidden and small, distressed whine slipped from between his pursed lips.

“Fuck,” He cursed quietly. A surge of rage came then, and Keith cursed louder; angry at himself for being so careless. “ _FUCK!_ ”

The sound of his fury bounced off the walls of the small, rocky space only to be swallowed up by the storm raging outside. By now the rush of shock was fading, and in exhausted misery Keith slumped against the rock behind him. There was nothing he could do but to wait out the weather.

“Fantastic,” Keith said, bitter and still furious. He pressed the heel of his palm into his eyes to scrub at his face. “You are so _fucking_ pathetic,” He said to himself.

Red, who had made herself small in the wake of Keith’s tumbling descent gave a low growl of agitation that thrummed along their connection.

Keith sighed. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” He assured the lion.

The words rang hollow however, and even as Keith said it, he knew it wasn’t true. The roar of wind outside was starting to become a blur of sound that made no sense. Keith felt the jittery flood of adrenaline stealing away to leave him with a creeping sense of panic.

He tried to breathe through the feeling, but in the end there was nothing Keith could do to stop it. That made it all the worse. Oba had always said that Keith was the type of person who felt everything more intensely than others. Anger was the easiest to express of course, but that didn’t stop him from being caught up in feeling other emotion in equal measure.

Gasping out quietly, the rational side of Keith’s brain told him it was only his body reacting to a stressful situation; that he was fine. It did nothing to temper the outward response however. Vision going bright, and fuzzy, Keith closed his eyes against it in an attempt to curb the unease at not being able to see. Focus. He had to focus.

Keith loosed a slow, thready breath. Reaching out then with his good hand, he pressed it to the uneven surface of the cavern wall. Full of gritty divots and sharp, jutting points Keith concentrated on the feel of it. It brought him back a bit, and he forced himself to make a study of what it felt like under his gloved palm.

It was a long while before he felt himself calm enough to think rationally again. He scrubbed at his face with his good hand, and was shocked to find that dampness there soaked through the fabric of his glove.  

 

 

_You’re okay now. You’ll survive._

 

It was easier to listen to the voice in his head when it sounded like someone Keith loved; when it sounded like Shiro. He focused on that instead of the aching hurts of his body and the wind outside.

In the end the storm didn’t blow itself out until long after the sun had sunk from the sky. With it being too risky to move about in the dark, Keith had opted to stay huddled in the back of the cave until morning came instead. Stubbornly refusing to sleep, his thoughts had become dissolute and destructive. Red, a quiet companion in the back of his mind seemed to nip fiercely out at them when they became too bleak.

When the sun finally rose, Keith started the long journey back across the sand to where his lion waited.  Under the weight of a blistering sun It took hours.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst. Also, I might be upping the rating due to the next chapter. Not sure yet, I ended up completely re-writing the original ending. Also I'm not a doctor, so please don't take any of the medical stuff as something that should actually be attempted. It's not super squicky, but be warned that Keith does first aid on himself, and probably not very well.

 

 

After that Keith remained with his lion. There were no more excursions made to the rocks and his injuries made even the slightest movements unbearable. Not only that, what Keith had seen upon returning to where Red had initially crashed had left him too shaken to risk leaving again. She had tried to come to him after he’d fallen and now lay like a massive, broken marionette heaped in the sand. There was no telling what further damaged had been caused, or if it would even be able to be fixed.

The attempted rescue had also disturbed the particle barrier. One of the rods had gone missing and the only thing to be done about it was to move the remaining rods closer together to create a smaller field of protection. It left Red’s hindquarters exposed, but it was better than nothing.

Keith’s arm meanwhile, was a complete mess. It had dislocated at the shoulder in the fall and had become so swollen that Keith had to remove his armor as soon as he managed to climb up inside the lion. It was a painful and slow ascent, but once there Keith was able to breathe himself through the pain. Extracting himself from his armor one-handed was precarious, but afterward he was able to shimmy out of the suit beneath so that he could wrap his bruised and broken ribs.

The shoulder would have to be re-set, and Keith was not looking forward to the process. It wasn’t one he was a stranger to, but even so the thought of it set his teeth on edge. It was with grim determination that he set about preparing to complete the process on his own.

It wasn’t easy. After looping a length of rope around his pilot’s chair, Keith then looped the other end around his wrist. He took a breath, stepped out to extend his arm and then began to pull slowly. It _hurt,_ Christ it hurt. Tears prickled his eyes and he bellowed through the spark of dizzying agony. Eventually he felt the pop of the joint sliding back into its socket, and breathless Keith slumped to the floor.

He woke some time later in a heap, staring up at the ceiling. Trembling, Keith sat up and gave his arm bit of an experimental roll. The muscles screamed in anguish but the limb moved. He loosed a quiet sob of relief even as he fumbled with the contents of his med kit to find the sling that it contained. That done Keith grabbed his blanket, and clumsily scuttled up into the pilot’s seat to sleep.

The dreams that chased him were strange; disjointed. He dreamt that he was not himself, that he was flying up into the atmosphere and leaving this sandy ruin of a place behind him. He dreamt of stars flying past at the speed of light and of searching for something that was just out of reach. He dreamt of roaring out, desperate and afraid but his voice went unheard in the vast emptiness of space. Then there came the crushing reality of nothingness; of being alone in an endless swathe of blackness for _lightyears_.

The dream shifted, and suddenly Keith was himself again and he was feeling equally small and afraid; chasing the ghost of Shiro’s beatific smile across a galaxy to an icy tomb.

Keith awoke feeling sick at heart and sore. It was only when it became too hot to bear on the flight deck that he moved with all the grace of lumbering old man to the lion’s mouth. He remained there, sprawled out in numb catatonia, until the sun had set.

He passed three mornings like this. Waking, notching his stick, and surviving through the pain. On the fourth morning what remained of the water supply ran out. It was then that Keith realized that he probably wasn’t going to get out of this alive. Still, stubbornly he held on.

On the fifth day he was curled miserably in his seat holding the distress beacon when the light went out. Like an incandescent bulb on the fritz, it blinked, fizzled and then ...Nothing. At first Keith wasn’t sure what had happened. In confusion he blinked down at the device. His tongue flicked out to wet his dry, cracked lips even as he pressed the button to re-activate the device.

When nothing appeared to happen, he pressed it again. And again. _And again_ , until he was squeezing it so tightly in his hands that it hurt and he started to bleed. A sound welled up in his raw throat, then he was shouting out into the silence in a broken rage. Keith heaved the device across the flight deck with as much energy as he could muster. It smashed against the wall in an explosion of parts. Numbly, Keith found himself trying to care, trying the find some sort of emotional response that wasn’t apathy or anger. He found that he couldn’t.

 “I’m going to _die_ here.” He whispered, voice raspy and raw.

 As soon as he said it Keith realized that it was probably the truth. There was a finality to the statement that left him feeling curiously ambivalent. He was going to die on this God forsaken planet, and if by some miracle the others were out there somewhere, they were never going to find him. Well, no. That wasn’t exactly true. It was likely that Red would eventually be found by Allura assuming that she was still alive. It would be too late for him but…

“At least you won’t be alone,” Keith said, smiling softly even as he turned his head to lean it against the back of his chair. Red vibrated with distress so he pressed his palm to the arm of the chair soothingly. “No, shh. You’ll be okay without me. They’ll find you and you won’t have to be by yourself. Shiro will find you, I promise.”

It was the only thing Keith felt certain of other than the fact that he knew he was wasn’t going to make it. He’d fight it as best he could for as long as he could, but he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Lapsing in to silence then, Keith moved to retrieve a bit of the broken transmitter that had skittered across the floor and landed near where he was sitting. There was no way to leave any sort of message, and he didn’t trust himself to share his thoughts with Red. She was thrumming with anxious, inconsolable energy that Keith shut himself to for the sake of his own peace of mind.

Slowly, Shiro’s name emerged in crude character script in the metal on the arm of the chair. Oba would’ve been appalled by Keith’s penmanship, but he thought that maybe she would’ve forgiven him given the circumstance. Anyway, he’d never learned to write Japanese as well as Shiro had and it was the only message that seemed fitting enough for Keith to leave behind. When he’d finished, Keith took a deep breath and pinched his eyes shut against the sorrow that was threatening to swallow him up.

“I’m sorry, Takashi.” He said, pressing his fingers to the jagged script.

 

 

Time started to take on an odd fluidity in the vast hours that followed. Keith’s thoughts lost their sharpness, trailing like the frayed ends of a ribbon raveling in the wind. Sometimes he felt he was awake, others he wasn’t sure at all. The heat, heavy and thick swallowed everything and chased Keith even into his troubled sleep when it came. Body burning up, and trapped somewhere between dreams and waking, Keith was losing the fight.

He was tired. So damned tired. It would’ve been so easy to just allow himself to drift off quietly into nothingness. Once or twice he resigned himself to do so, but then a large almost feral _something_ was urging him on; begging that he not give up, to just hold on a little longer. It would sink its teeth in and worry him like a bone until he was shaken back in to his strange unreality.

For a tick or two there would come a lucid thought, but the threads of it came apart soon after, leaving Keith mired in sweltering misery. The only reprieve was the sensation of flying. Or falling, Keith wasn’t sure.

 Minutes might’ve been hours, and hours might’ve been days, but at some point Keith found himself hearing things. Just sounds at first, but then they began to resolve into something familiar. Voices, his addled thoughts sluggishly provided. They made no sense, just a jumble of loudness that he knew he recognized. Slowly, he understood that they were saying the same thing; a name perhaps, maybe his own if he was still a thing that had name, and not the angry heat that was clawing at his throat and lips.

They became louder, the voices. But they buzzed in and out of Keith’s awareness like bothersome little flies zipping just out of arm’s reach. He hadn’t the strength move toward them, to pull himself to waking. Still, it was jarring when there was a sudden explosion of sound close by.

 “-eith! C’mon man, you better not be d--.”

 Slowly, Keith realized he knew this voice and recognized that it was trying to speak to him; to make him understand something important. There was a disconnect somewhere though, and the language fell apart in Keith’s brain.

“--breathing? Oh man, this--- Get him out of--”

Another voice now, this one weaving in and out of Keith’s awareness. He knew this one as well, despite it being loud and confusing in his head. But he was only hearing part of the conversation, and processing and even smaller portion of it.

Around him, there was some sort of commotion. More voices overlapped the first two and one much lighter was coming in to focus, albeit clogged by the static that was wreaking havoc on Keith’s brain. For some reason though, it reminded him of the color green.

“--’s going to be okay, we just have to-- a pod and--”

It was too loud. Why were the voices so loud? They hurt his ears, and reminded Keith how hot he was. A low whine slipped unbidden from his raw throat, and suddenly something was touching his face. Keith didn’t like it, it felt like rough like sand-paper grating on his feverish skin and burning where it touched. He tried moving away, but his body would not cooperate.

“Call All—- We-- get him to the castle now!”

It was a new voice, different from the other three. Keith’s brain knew the shape and cadence of it immediately. There was no one else it could be. Then there was the gentle touch of blessedly cool fingers skimming up along his neck.

  _Shiro._

 If this was a dream, Keith wasn’t sure he wanted to wake. Better to stay where he was in this moment than to wake to the loneliness of slowly dying. Better not to wake at all, really. Another soft noise escaped his raw throat, and the fingers there slid up to his jaw, holding it gently. Keith was a bit more lucid when he heard Shiro’s voice again.

“Keith, I’m here now. Try to wake up for me. _Please_.”

Gentle, so gentle. Keith felt he might break under such gentleness, especially if it wasn’t real; If Shiro wasn’t actually there. Instead he felt the soft press of lips to his brow, and a quiet huff of breath fanning out over his skin. Keith whined in misery.

“Takashi?” It was a rasping croak, and it _hurt_. But Keith felt a mild tremor in the body crouched close to him, and felt the gusty sigh of relief that came mere seconds later.

“ _Yes_ , yes, it’s me. I’m here, I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.” The voice assured.

Keith wanted to believe it was Shiro. It sounded like Shiro, God did it sound like Shiro. And he sounded _real_. But Keith wasn’t sure, couldn’t be sure. Not when reality had turned itself on its head leaving Keith to question whether or not this was the waking world or some terrible, beautiful dream. Distantly he was aware that his body was shaking, of the voices around him speaking in a flurry of alarm. It reminded him of the frantic fluttering of hummingbird’s wings.

 Maybe this was what it felt like to die, Keith mused. The voices continued on around him.

 “—doesn’t look good, man! What happe—“

“Shiro he—“

“--her way in a speeder. They landed the--”

“--Severely dehydra-- We’ll worry about Red later!”

 

Red.

 

The color of heat and anger and passion and love. Keith loved Shiro desperately. Stubbornly, if anyone were to ask. He had tried to raze an entire army in the name of that love, and had found that it was simply his own selfish need to avenge his own heartache that had lead him here. This was his own fault. Keith frowned. He didn’t deserve the tenderness with which he was being touched, nor the aching loveliness of the voice that sounded so much like Shiro.

“Keith? C’mon. Wake up, you punk. You _can’t_ do this to me. Not like this.”

Something turned in Keith’s chest, and he slumped forward against the solid body crouched in front of him. He felt the softness of hair on his brow, then the comforting weight of strong arms wending their way around him. It even felt like Shiro. It wasn’t fair.

“I can’t tell if you’re really here or not.” Keith confessed, hating the sudden spill of tears that ran down over his blistered skin. There was a faint catch in the sound of the breathing that was in his ear, then Keith was feeling the careful press of lips at his temple and along his hair line.

“I’m here. I promise. I’m _here_.” The voice that sounded like Shiro assured him, and Keith found that he believed it.

He sighed out quietly, wanting to be closer but unable to make his body cooperate. Around him there seemed to be movement again, and yet more hurried conversation. Keith’s ears heard it, but his sense of awareness had gone fuzzy again. Several minutes must have passed, because then he was being spoken to.

“-- And we need to get you to the castle. We’re going now. I’ll be with you, okay?” Shiro said, though he didn’t seem to wait for a response.

Keith was still trying to process the statement when he felt himself being lifted and placed on some sort of flat, horizontal surface. The jostling reminded Keith that he was hurt, and his body throbbed with a sudden agony that had a sob of pain bursting out from between his lips. Cool fingers were then lacing with his own amidst a string of hushed apologies.

Keith couldn’t grasp the meaning of the words so much as the soft, soothing cadence of Shiro’s voice. It eased the knot in Keith’s chest, and seemed to make the odd lapses of his cognition a little less disquieting. In small flashes his consciousness seemed to swell and then pop like bubbles on the rippling surface of brook. First there was movement, then there was the sensation of wind whipping past at an alarming speed. At some point the cool hand in his own was replaced by one that was much smaller and warmer. A while later, or mere moments for all Keith knew, Shiro was back and telling him that he was okay now, that everything would be fine.

Distantly, Keith was aware of a presence tickling the back of his mind. It projected a feeling of calm relief even as Keith felt the tenuous threads of consciousness slipping away to carry him off into a state of natural sleep. It told him that he could finally rest, that he was going to live.

 

***

 

Oba was cooking something in her small, but tidy kitchen. The sizzle of the pan, the smell of frying batter and the pungent aroma of spices had Keith’s mouth watering even as his stomach rumbled in response.

“You have to be more careful,” Oba scolded, glancing up from the stove.

Her sun-browned face was crinkled into a scowl despite the softness of her dark eyes. In one hand she held a spatula, while the other was curled into a fist and set on her hip.

“Sorry, Oba. I’ll try to do better next time.” Keith replied, feeling guilty despite himself.

He hadn’t meant to disappoint her. He hadn’t meant for any of this to happen, really. Across the kitchen, the small but fierce old woman threw her hands up in frustrated defeat even as she blustered out a string of dismayed words in her native tongue.

“ _Next time_ , he says,” She said at length, pinning Keith with a bit of a glare. “There better not be a next time, you terror. Between you and my idiot nephew, the pair of you are going to send me to an early grave.”

But there was no real venom behind the tone, and Keith found himself smiling, if not a touch sadly. He hadn’t the heart to tell her that there would never be the chance for any sort of ‘next time’. She had already gone.

“I really am sorry, Oba,” Keith told her instead. “ I wont do it again, okay?”

 

Keith swore she could tell he was lying.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for being so patient waiting for this. I've been super busy this week working on stuff for GISHWHES and packing for my vacation. Anyway, this is going to be the last update before I leave, and I won't be back until the 14th of August. After this chapter though I only anticipate there being possibly two more installments, but I already have more ideas lined up for the series on the whole. Soo yeah, that's about it, other than to thank all of you for reading and for your lovely comments. All the drama in fandom right now is really gross and disappointing, and putting me off a bit, so I really appreciate you all leaving kudos and such :)

 

 

 

The world began to right itself in slow, plodding steps. At first Keith was simply aware that his skin had pimpled up into goose flesh, then he realized he was cold. Suddenly alert and cognizant, he became aware of what was going on around him. Keith hadn’t moved yet, but he knew that he was laying in an opened pod in the medical bay aboard the Castle of Lions. Keith was also aware of the verbal skirmish that was going on nearby.

“Oh C’mon, it’s been four days already. Why isn’t he up yet? The pod literally just opened and he’s still laying there like a prissy princess.” Of course it was Lance making all the fuss, much to the apparent chagrin of the others.

“Just because the pod opened doesn’t mean his body is ready to be up and about. Sometimes it needs a bit of natural rest first.” Shiro said in a clear attempt to ease some of the tension.

Pidge however interrupted, and it sounded like she’d hit Lance if the smacking thud and the pained yelp was anything to go by.

“Which is why you should shut up and let him sleep, you goon.” She said, though much more quietly than Lance had been speaking.

“Yeah, man. Let a dude sleep. You saw what he was like when we found him. We all wanna talk to him, but we should wait.” Hunk added from somewhere nearby.

They were all there. All of them, and they were safe. The painful tightness that Keith had been carrying in his chest for days eased, becoming soft and sentimental. Relief flooded through him, and for a second Keith felt as though his traitorous heart might propel him from the pod and into their arms. He took a careful breath, and instead grunted out a sleepy, disgruntled sound. Behind him came the collective, sharp intake of breath and then a rush of hushed whispers. Keith rolled over and away from them to feign sleep.

“See? I told you to shut up, Lance!” Pidge hissed.

It nearly dissolved into another argument, but then Shiro was cutting in diplomatically.

“Look, guys, I think we can all agree that we are all anxious to talk to Keith. But he needs a while to sleep it off and we should let him rest, okay?”

The other three were quiet, but Keith could tell they felt like they’d been scolded. He could even imagine the guilty looks on their faces. Served them right.

“You’ll come get us when he’s awake, right Shiro?” Pidge asked after a few ticks, and Keith could hear a bit of a tremor in her voice. It had him frowning. Behind him, Shiro sighed out quietly.

“As soon as he’s ready to see everyone I’ll make sure he does, okay? Why don’t you guys get a special dinner or something going? I’m sure he’ll be hungry when he gets up,” Shiro replied kindly, but then paused and made a soft, considering sound.

Keith wasn’t sure what was going on, but he thought he heard a bit of a sniff from Hunk. Then there was the sound of shuffling and rustling even as Shiro spoke again.

“Guys,” He chided gently. “C’mere. We’re fine. Keith is going to be fine. You all did great, okay? We can’t change what happened but it’s going to be all right now.”

Shiro was hugging them, Keith realized suddenly. For a moment he almost turned to look, to confirm his suspicions, but found the idea of having to face them in that moment a little too much. The idea of being so emotionally available made Keith uneasy.

“We were almost too late though.” Hunk was saying now, tone guilty.

“We weren’t though. And we’re fine now. All of us.” Shiro countered gently.

“Yeah, I guess.” Hunk agreed at length.

There were a few more ticks of heavy silence, then Lance seemed to be drawing apart from the group, his voice cheerful and too contrived to match the weight of the conversation.

“Okay, _okay_. Enough of this schmoop. I’m gonna get cavities.” He said.

The others seemed to be drawing apart as well now and Keith heard them shuffling toward the door of the med bay.

“Lets get some food together. Maybe we can make a cake or something? We need a little celebrating around here to lighten the mood.” Hunk was saying.

"We’ve got some of those yellow things left, I bet that would taste nice in a cake.” Pidge suggested.

“Sounds great, guys. I’m sure it’ll be fantastic. I’ll come find you the second Keith’s ready to see all of you.” Shiro returned, and Keith could hear the smile in his voice.

There was a brief pause in conversation, then the whoosh of the med bay doors. After that Keith listened as the other three shuffled out, chattering animatedly over what they were going to cook. Quiet now, the med bay felt too empty in the absence of the other paladins. Keith thought he would have welcomed the reprieve, but found the silence to be itchy and uncomfortable. Behind him, Shiro’s quiet steps drew closer, then Keith felt the weight of him sitting down on the edge of bed that made up the open pod.  

Keith curled in on himself, and pulled in a deep breath.

It was a long moment before Shiro spoke "I thought you might be awake.” He said carefully.

“How was I supposed to sleep with all that racket? Lance had the freakin’ volume turned up to a ten for fucks sake.” Keith grumbled hotly.

He wasn’t angry, in fact he wasn’t really sure what he was feeling; only that there was an ache inside him and it hurt in a way that was equal parts lovely and terrible. Behind him, Shiro released a heavy sigh. Keith heard the rebuke coming, but didn’t want it. He interrupted before Shiro had the chance.

“I know, okay? You don’t have to say it,” Keith snapped. Guilt tore at the base of his throat, and had him grunting out in annoyance. He tried again. “Sorry. I’m being a dick. It’s been a bad...However long it’s been.”

How long _had_ it been? A week? _Two_? Vaguely Keith recalled that he had kept track of the days that had passed, though he wasn’t sure how many he’d spent in insensible misery and hovering on the brink of mortality.  

“Seventeen days,” Shiro replied quietly.

There was a bit of a hitching gasp in his tone, and suddenly that they weren’t touching was intolerable. The heavy ache in Keith’s chest throbbed, and pushing himself upright he twisted so that he could wrap himself around Shiro’s body. Solid and warm, the older paladin's arms trapped Keith tightly and pulled him closer. Keith tucked his head against the crook of Shiro’s neck and drew in a deep breath, reveling in the comforting smell and heat of him.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Shiro confessed, voice hoarse and aggrieved. “When I saw the wreckage, when we climbed inside and I saw you there I-- I thought you were gone,”

Keith wasn’t sure what to say to that; if there was anything he _should_ say to that. It wouldn’t change what had happened, or how Shiro had felt, or even how Shiro felt now. Keith frowned, hating that there was nothing he could do. The only comfort he could offer was to lift his fingers to Shiro’s head to card them through the other paladin’s hair. It seemed to loose something in Shiro, because whatever restraint he’d been holding over himself up until that point was suddenly gone. He shuddered out a loud, pained grunt and all but crushed Keith in the circle of his arms.

“I kept thinking about you out there, dying and alone and I panicked, Keith. I thought I’d lost you and that it was my fault. I’m sorry-- I--”

“I wasn’t alone though, Red was with me,” Keith cut in firmly. “And it wasn’t your fault. Don’t even say that. I was stupid. I made a stupid, mistake and I nearly died because of it. I’m the one who should be sorry for making you go through that.”

Shiro’s response was a quiet bark of a laugh that was bitter and sharp.  “Doesn’t change the fact that I thought you were dead.” Shiro said savagely.

For a moment Keith wanted to be angry. He wanted to ask the other paladin if any of his assurances to Hunk, Pidge and Lance had been something that applied only to them, and not to Shiro himself. But Keith didn’t want to start a fight, and any bluster on his part would have tipped the scales into a shouting match. It wasn’t something that Keith had the energy or wherewithal for. Instead he bullied Shiro’s face down into the crook of his neck so that he could kiss the top of the older man’s head.

“No, it doesn’t,” Keith replied carefully, then a few ticks later added: “But I’m not. So you can stop blaming yourself for something that didn’t happen.”

This prompted another self-deprecating laugh on Shiro’s part, but Keith ignored it. This was Shiro working through whatever it was that was going on in his head, and trying to reconcile that with whatever heartache it was that he was feeling. Keith’s own sorrow could wait, it would still be there once he’d weathered Shiro’s storm.

It raged quietly for a time, tense and dangerous. Keith was silent as he scraped his fingers through the cropped hair at the back of Shiro’s skull. Then, a thought came to him.

“ I had a dream about Oba,” He said, if not a touch meekly. In his arms, Shiro’s body stilled its minute quaking. The older pilot made a soft grunt of acknowledgement, so Keith went on. “She yelled at me for being an idiot.”

Shiro’s laugh, when it came, was immediate and much lighter. Muffled though it was, it was genuine and it had Keith smiling.

“Sounds like Oba. Bet she cursed at you in Japanese too, huh?” Shiro asked.

Still bent against Keith’s body, he seemed to have gained some control over himself. His breath fanned out hot and uneven against Keith’s skin which had become damp with tepid moisture.  

“Of course, you expect any less? Where’d you think I learned it from?” Keith shot back with a snort.

Meanwhile Keith had moved his hands so that he could run his thumbs over the curves of Shiro’s ears. The other pilot sighed under the touch and pressed impossibly close. After a moment, Keith moved his hands to work at the tense knot of muscle at the base of Shiro’s neck.

“No, I suppose not.” Shiro replied with a soft, amused huff. “I think you were probably born shouting ‘Fuck you’ though, so not much to learn.” He teased, and Keith loosed an indignant, if not bemused, grunt.

“You were probably born with the face of an old man, all serious and shit.” He returned hotly. But Keith’s mouth was quirked into a small smile and he could hear the faint rumble of Shiro’s laughter, quiet though it was.

“Maybe.” Shiro agreed. Then the other paladin was sitting up and drawing back.

Keith’s palms drifted to a rest atop broad shoulders, and when he glanced up he noted how tired and lost Shiro looked. His dark lashes were clumped together with dampness, and his grey eyes were limned with raw redness. Keith frowned speculatively, and noted the quirk of answering curiosity in the way one of Shiro’s brows popped up. Keith grunted, then was pulling Shiro close again so that their noses bumped together.

“I’m okay now, Takashi,” He said, guilt constricting the words so that they came out pinched and tight. “I’m here and we’re together now, okay? You aren’t going to get rid of me that easily.”

Then Keith found himself being enveloped again by the crushing strength of Shiro’s strong arms. There was a sound like a choked grunt in his ear which might’ve been Keith’s name. It prompted a long, faltering breath to push from Keith’s lungs as he tried to reign in the itchiness behind his eyes. In his arms, Shiro seemed as though he were about to shake apart entirely, so Keith held on all the more tightly lest he himself fly to pieces as well.

But the storm was passing. They had come through the eye of it, and all that was left was to soldier on to the culmination. Eventually, the jittery edge of distress softened into something less sharp; something that felt less like there were needles jabbing Keith’s lungs with every labored breath. He sighed out quietly even as his questing fingers found that that the rapid thrum of Shiro’s pulse had slowed to a calm, sedate rhythm as well.

"We should go find the others, they were worried about you.” Shiro said eventually, breaking the long silence. He sounded wrung out and tired.

“I could really use a shower first, and a change of clothes. Somehow I’m wearing pajamas, who put me in pajamas?” Keith replied, hedging.

To be honest, Keith wasn’t sure that he could face his friends just yet. He felt too raw; too open to hold his own against the inevitable tide of their emotions. Shiro also looked like he could use a bit of a break as well. Uncharacteristically distant, the older paladin’s expression was sad and closed off. Keith frowned and bent forward to brush his mouth against Shiro’s lips.

“I just need a little while to get my head on straight. I’m a bit of a mess right now.” Keith admitted quietly. That seemed to put Shiro at ease, because he gave a quick nod before moving fluidly to his feet.

“That’s fair enough,” Shiro agreed even as he held out a hand to draw Keith up.

Once there, Keith gave to the indulgent little urge to step into Shiro’s space, and wrapped his arms around the warmth of the taller man’s body. Burying his face against the solidness of Shiro’s muscular chest, Keith drew in a deep breath.

“You smell nice,” Keith huffed out on the tails of a sigh. He felt Shiro’s arms loop around him, felt the press of a nose in his hair. Keith could hear the smile in Shiro’s reply.

“You don’t smell that bad either, you know.”

 

Keith snorted at that.

 

“I smell bad enough. I feel like I have sand in places that sand has no business being.” He grumped as he drew back.

 Glancing upward, Keith found that Shiro was watching him carefully, face crumpled in an expression that was somewhat mournful and a little lost. Keith hated it.

“Oh just stop it and kiss me already,” He grunted out in annoyance. But Keith didn’t give Shiro a chance to respond, instead reaching up to snatch Shiro by the back of the neck to bully the taller paladin into a kiss.

But for all Keith’s bluster, the kiss was surprisingly gentle; delightful, even. Shiro took his time, sketching out an apology in the way his lips moved reverently against Keith’s mouth. It had Keith sighing out sweetly into the other pilot’s mouth and tipping his head to afford Shiro a better angle for their closeness. As they parted, Keith felt the press of palms setting gently to the curve of his jaw.

Shiro’s mouth, that hadn’t gone far, turned upward to trail doting little kisses along the line of Keith’s nose and up along his brow. It reminded Keith of a dream he’d had when he’d been alone on that desert planet.

Keith put it out of mind. He didn’t want to think about it. Not now when Shiro’s lips were blazing warm paths into his skin; trailing over the lids of his closed eyes and down over the curves of his cheeks. It was distracting and lovely, and had Keith squirming a bit where he stood. He wasn’t sure what to do with this; with the gentility with which he was being handled.

“Come have a shower with me? Then we’ll go find the others, I’m actually pretty hungry.” Keith said at length, fumbling to find even footing again.

“Mm, I think you’ll get to eat a bit quicker if I don’t.” Was Shiro’s rumbling reply. It had a lurch of heat zinging straight to Keith’s gut, and unbidden his thoughts zipped ahead to envision the two of them pressed skin to skin under a spray of warm water. Keith felt his face flush with the sudden rush of desire. He thought about it a moment, then glanced up to find that Shiro was watching him, a small grin quirking the corners of his lovely mouth.

 

Yeah. That sounded... Good.

 

“And your point is?” Keith challenged. Shiro’s smile grew a fraction larger.

“I think your priorities might be a little skewed, Cadet.” Shiro teased.

“Yeaa~aah, no.” Keith began with a shrug, then added: “Food can wait. I missed you, you complete ass.”

 _“Language,_ Keith _._ Someone’s going to wash your mouth out with soap if you’re not careful.”

“Ffft. As if. I’d like to see you try, Shirogane.”

 

***

 

 

It didn’t take long for them to make their way to Shiro’s room. It was really _their_ room now, Keith decided. At some point all of his meager possessions had found their way tucked into the corners of Shiro’s life here aboard the castle ship. Finding Shiro’s empty spaces and filling them with bits of himself made Keith feel like he belonged somewhere; it felt like he’d finally found his home again. Idly, Keith wondered if the older pilot felt the same. The scorched hole in the wall near the door was a fairly good indication that the sentiment ran both ways.

Eyeing the hand-shaped hollow mildly, Keith turned to glance in Shiro’s direction after a tick or two. The other paladin scowled and there was a faint whirring as Shiro’s hand clenched into a fist. There wasn’t any need to ask what had happened, Keith could read it in the way that Shiro’s shoulders tensed, and in the hard line of his clenched jaw. So Keith shrugged, stepping into the older man’s space so that he could crowd in close and reach for the zipper of the Shiro’s black vest.

“Stop thinking about it, what’s done is done.” Keith said lightly. The grim look on Shiro’s face took a beat too long to soften however, and Keith found himself huffing out in annoyance. He stepped away to pad into the bathroom by himself.

“Keith, wait.” It was a frustrated grunt on Shiro’s part. Keith felt himself snagged about the hips, then he was being tugged backward by the pull of a solid arm. Keith was scowling as he turned to level Shiro with a withering look.

“We don’t have to talk about it now, I just want to be with you here, _right now_ , in the moment. It’s over and done with, so let it be over and done with,” He began, angry and perhaps a touch over-wrought. “If you’re going to stand there being all guilty over bullshit you literally had no control over I’m going to fucking scream.”

Keith knew he was being selfish, he _knew_ that. But it didn’t change the fact that he was heart-sore and aching to wrap himself in the comfort of simply being with Shiro; of reaffirming that they were both here and alive and that they had survived.

 

Why couldn’t Shiro just understand that?

 

The older paladin’s eyes had gone stormy now, mouth pursed in a tight, furious line. Splotches of color were creeping up the sides of his neck to stain his cheeks with anger. Keith wilted a bit, balking under Shiro’s glare. Fuck it all, this was not going the way Keith had wanted.

“I’m not--” Keith started, then paused when a sudden swell of turbulent emotion caught him. “I just-- I can’t think about any of this anymore. I don’t want to think about how badly I fucked up, or how you’d feel if I died out there, or not seeing you again. I can’t. So I’m asking you to please just stop for now. _Please_ , Takashi.”

It was as close to begging as Keith had been since that awful night he’d battled with Shiro over Kerberos. Keith couldn’t let himself spin that far out of control again; he wasn’t sure if what they had been so carefully building together these past months would survive it. Honestly, Keith wasn’t even sure that Shiro would tolerate it. The thought made Keith suddenly anxious, fearful even. But something had softened in Shiro’s gaze and the older pilot released a long-suffering sigh, even as his posture relaxed.

“Yeah, okay.” Shiro replied.

Keith was surprised to find that his eyes were suddenly welling with relief. It was a bit hateful because Keith was _over_ feeling so raw and emotional. He ducked away before Shiro could see, could feel guilty all over again, and darted into the bathroom. Shucking his clothes with more force than was necessary, Keith stepped into the shower and yanked the faucet on so that the spray could hide the evidence of his vulnerability. It was a few long ticks before Keith heard the sound of Shiro undressing, followed closely by the sliding of the glass shower door. Then the other paladin was slotting in behind Keith.

Shiro was solid and warm, and had wrapped his arms loosely about Keith’s mid-section. His large palms were open against the skin of Keith’s abdomen; unassuming and soothing. The tension drained from Keith’s body, and he slumped back against the older man with a tremulous sigh. There was a tightness in Keith’s chest that he wasn’t sure what to do with. It made him want to say something needy and utterly stupid. Instead Keith plucked at Shiro’s mechanized limb, turning the palm over in his own hand to thumb at it in curiosity.

“How does your arm not explode? It’s getting all wet. It’s robotic, isn’t it?” He demanded, perhaps a touch sulkily. What Keith wasn’t expecting were the sudden peals of merry laughter.

“That was seriously the last thing I thought you were going to say.” Shiro said through his chuckles.

Turning to scowl over his shoulder, Keith was rather snippish as he replied. “You know, I _don’t_ actually want to fight with you, you ass.” But a small smile was hiding in the corner of his mouth, and Keith could see Shiro’s own lips curling up into a grin.

“Yeah, I know. You just make it really hard to remember some times.” Shiro said.

Then the other paladin was drawing closer to press his chin up atop the curve of Keith’s shoulder. The discord between them had faded and the moment was easing into an uncomplicated intimacy. It was nice; unhurried and affectionate. It was not the initial, more sexual affair Keith had pictured in the med bay, but somehow this was just as gratifying. He twisted suddenly in Shiro’s arms, wanting to see him.

The older pilot smiled fondly above him, and Keith found the way that Shiro’s snowy hair was sheeting down his face under the spray of water to be indescribably lovely. He reached out to brush a lock of it from storm-cloud grey eyes. Keith was still staring when Shiro leaned in to bump their noses together, his expression was warm, if not a touch expectant.

“What?” Keith demanded, albeit it gentle. The angry fire had gone out of him to leave a tender little spark that was glowing beneath Keith’s breastbone. It burned a little brighter when Shiro began trailing wet kisses along the curve of Keith’s ear and down his neck.

“I’m just glad that you’re here.” Shiro returned in a quiet rumble.

 

“Yeah, me too,” Keith sighed, melting under Shiro’s touch. "Me too."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand we're back. Sorry for the wait! Pennsic was amazing, but freaking hot as balls. Also, you'll notice that rating has been upped. Hopefully I haven't made too many mistakes here. Life is hard without a beta lol.

 

In the end, Keith spent more time trading gentle kisses with Shiro than anything else. The desire to touch, to reacclimatize himself to the vast expanse of the older paladin’s naked skin was still present of course. But the aching need that had pooled low in Keith’s belly was a secondary desire. It was something that, for the moment being, Keith ignored in favor of blazing trails of warmth along Shiro’s spine with his fingertips. The velvety drag of soft lips across his throat and neck left Keith sighing out in pleasure and he decided that he wasn’t so impatient that he couldn’t enjoy this first; that he couldn’t wait until he’d had his fill of simply touching Shiro in unhurried affection.

They took turns washing one another, and Keith found himself sighing into the press of the fingers that scraped into his soapy scalp. The tension spooled out of him, swirling away like the water that was running down the drain. Keith was slumped against Shiro’s chest when he felt the slide of slick, soapy palms running down his abdomen to curl gently around the softness of his sex. He felt himself twitch to life in Shiro’s palm, and Keith grunted out a pleased little sound as the other pilot lazily enticed him into full hardness.

“Okay?”

It was a silly question on Shiro's part, but Keith hummed out quietly in affirmation even as he turned to press a kiss into Shiro’s jaw. His own hands drifted, fingers curling into Shiro’s forearms as the other pilot continued to leisurely stroke Keith’s arousal. When Keith came it was in to the slick channel of a snugly clenched fist. Shiro was pressing open-mouthed kisses into Keith’s wet skin as he gasped and shivered against the solid body that held him pinned.

Afterward, Keith twisted in Shiro’s arms. He was impatient as he pushed the other paladin up against the slick tiles of the shower wall to return the favor. Keith’s mouth was busy sucking prickling little kisses into the sensitive, areolated skin on Shiro’s chest when the older pilot stiffened and reached completion; Keith’s name a breathy whisper on his lips.

They were still caught in the pull of one another’s orbit as they finished with the shower and stepped out into the bathroom. Keith felt magnetized, his hands never straying far from the arresting warmth of Shiro’s skin. It was the other paladin who finally ended up toweling Keith off and kissing him through the lengthy process of getting dressed. Keith didn’t mind it though, not really. Any other time and he might’ve found this hovering attentiveness suffocating. But somehow Keith’s hard edges had gone soft under the encouragement of Shiro’s gentleness.

Keith was pressing nipping little kisses into the handsome curve of Shiro’s lightly stubbled jaw when a playful tiff erupted over the zip on Shiro’s vest. Finally wresting the tab away from the other pilot’s fingers, Keith drew it up under Shiro’s chin and huffed out a laugh when the older paladin jerked his head back to avoid getting his skin pinched. When Keith glanced up, he noted that Shiro was grinning sheepishly. Reaching out to smooth his fingers over the spot, Keith grinned as well.

An easy stillness stole up upon them, and for a while, Keith was content to allow himself to simply revel in their closeness; to bask in the heat of their shared space. He swayed closer, pulled in by Shiro’s gravity. The damp press of lips skating up over the curve of Keith’s ear followed scant moments later.

“Hungry?” Shiro hummed soft and content against Keith’s skin.

It was distracting and lovely. As was the hot slide of Shiro’s tongue that was now blazing a warm trail along Keith’s neck. He felt himself shiver, hands fluttering uselessly at Shiro’s sides for a moment before he planted them firmly on the older paladin’s hips.

“I--” Keith began, only to jerk when Shiro nipped playfully at the lobe of his ear. “Yes, I-- Just-- _Takashi_.”

Christ. How in the hell was Keith supposed to think clearly when Shiro’s mouth was so intent on bringing him to his knees? Keith felt another tremor rill down his spine, prompted by the gentle scrape of teeth across the upper portion of his trapezius. He was unable to trap the soft, pleased sound the sensation dragged from between his lips. Above him Shiro loosed a quietly amused chuckle and Keith bristled a bit with embarrassment. He frowned, giving the older paladin a little nudge so that he could draw himself away.

“Sorry, sorry.” Shiro attempted through the bright, boyish grin that was lighting up his face. “I did warn you, though.”

The sudden swell of tenderness inside him caught Keith by surprise. Here was a small glimmer of Shiro as he’d once been. It was like light breaking the surface of a deep, dark pool. It felt like coming home.

Keith surged forward before he could stop himself, hungrily swallowing up Shiro’s startled laugh as their mouths collided. It wasn’t surprising when the other paladin tried to gentle the kiss, tried to calm the combativeness with which Keith had claimed him. It had Keith grunting out in irritation and nipping at Shiro’s mouth when he finally drew back.

“You’re being annoying.” Keith proclaimed with a huff, finding it easier to feign ire than to give to the gentle, slippery heat aching in his chest.

“Mmm. Maybe.” Shiro agreed in a low rumble. “But I still love you.”

Keith felt his ears go hot. Above him, Shiro was still smiling; gentle and affectionate. A garbled, inarticulate sound escaped Keith’s mouth. He felt his face flush at having made such a needy, wanting noise.

“Yeah, okay. Whatever.” He mumbled quickly, ducking his head.

Feeling prickly all over, and eager to escape the intensity of Shiro’s kind smile, Keith squirmed in an attempt to put some space between the two of them. For a tick, it seemed that Keith had missed some sort of cue, that there was supposed to have been some sort of alternate response on his part. But then Shiro was brushing forward to skim his lips over the top of Keith’s head.

“Ready?”  Shiro asked, reaching down to tug at Keith’s hand.

Right. Food. Dinner with the others. Was Keith ready? He thought so, though there was still a small kernel of lingering unease. Still, it was only his friends. He had missed them, and it was clear that they had missed him as well. Keith could handle that he decided, and gave Shiro’s fingers a reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah, I think so,” He replied even as he found himself being tugged toward the door of their room. Pausing briefly while Shiro tapped at the keypad, Keith let his eyes wander to the blackened scar of a hole in the wall. Keith swallowed heavily.

“Takashi?”

Ahead of him, the older paladin paused to glance over his shoulder. For a second his gaze drifted past Keith to eye the scorched mark. Distant and closed off, Keith watched as Shiro’s mouth tightened. A few seconds later and it was gone again; a trick of the light perhaps. The quiet smile was back when grey eyes settled on Keith.

“Yeah?” He asked, giving Keith’s hand a bit of a squeeze.

“I-- You know. I love you too.”

Ahead of him, Shiro’s expression softened in unmasked affection. Keith’s breath caught in his throat.

“Punk.” Shiro said. Then was pulling Keith out into the hall.

 

 

The walk to the dining hall was quiet and comfortable. Hand in hand, Keith allowed himself to be lead through the castle at Shiro’s pace. It was only as they drew close to the wide, double doors that lead into the large dining room that Keith felt himself becoming anxious. All at once, Keith felt unsure of himself. He shuffled to a halt, feeling the tug of his arm in Shiro’s grasp as the other pilot shifted to a stop as well. Concern was wrinkling Shiro’s brow when he glanced back to see what was going on.

Keith frowned, looking aside. He knew he was being irrational, ridiculous even. Even so, it didn’t stop the creeping sensation of dread he felt at having to walk through that door to face his friends.

It wasn’t as though Keith didn’t want to see them. It was just... just..

He must’ve tensed, must’ve given some sign of the internal argument that he was having because after a few short ticks Shiro was pulling Keith into the solid warmth of his chest.

“It’ll be fine. I’ll be here with you.” The older paladin reassured carefully.

Keith huffed out a grunt that was equal parts annoyance and resignation.

“I wish I wasn’t so bad at this sort of shit.” He admitted even as he extricated himself from the circle of Shiro’s arms. Keith was still scowling when Shiro reached out to give his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“You’ll do fine. They’ll understand, they care about you. We all do.” He said warmly.

Keith swallowed heavily, glancing aside lest he find himself falling to pieces again. “I guess I should be happy that you didn’t feed me that dorky line about patience again. You’re such a sap.” He replied with a snort but found himself smiling never-the-less.

“I could,” Shiro teased. “But you might hit me so I don’t think I will.”

“Hm. I might. Better not then.” Keith agreed. Then, before he could change his mind, he was moving past Shiro to punch the keypad at the door of the dining hall and move inside.

Keith wasn’t exactly sure what it was that he’d been expecting. But to see the room done up like an odd parody of a birthday party was a bit of a surprise. The over-head lighting had been dimmed, replaced with a string of multicolored lights and the long table that normally took up residence in the middle of the room had been moved aside. A smaller, round table had been placed there instead, and was set to accommodate the whole of their small number. It was draped with a shockingly red table cloth. Several large platters with gleaming covers sat atop the table and Keith’s nose could smell the delicious aroma of what was hiding beneath.

His stomach growled with hunger as he moved closer to further inspect the table. Its centerpiece was a large, artfully decorated cake. Snowy icing drizzled down over the multiple tiers and gleamed under the twinkling lights. Keith noted that what he first thought were real flowers were actually carefully sliced pieces of exotic alien fruit that had been delicately fashioned into flora. It was beautiful.

What stopped Keith in his tracks though was the small card propped up at the bottom of the cake which simply read ‘Welcome Home’ in flowing script.

He sucked in a sharp breath, feeling lost as he turned to toward Shiro. The older paladin stopped short as well, his own surprise echoed in the form of a soft, startled grunt.

“Keith?” Shiro barely had time to voice the one-word question before there was a burst of voices coming through the doorway from the hall.

“If we hurry we might be able to get the banner up befor-- Oh! Shiro!”

It was Allura. Keith turned in her direction as she stopped in the doorway. Lance, Pidge, and Hunk stumbled to a halt just behind her. From somewhere out in the hall Keith could hear Coran as well. For a moment a strange sort of tableau took place. Allura seemed to be watching Keith warily from where she stood, while the others were oddly quiet with their expressions lingering somewhere between guilt and surprise. At Keith’s side, Shiro was tense, his mouth pursed into a thin line. The moment stretched long, then there was an explosion of sound as Coran pushed through the assemblage and into the dining hall, completely unawares.

“Now I know you lot don’t appreciate the wonder that is nunville, so I dug through the larders and found a bottle of Altean wine that I thought might be nice for the occasion as it is a rather specia—Oh, Keith! Shiro! You’re here, how splendid!”  

That seemed to shake them all loose from the strange ambiance. Keith blew out a shaky breath of relief. Meanwhile Shiro, ever the consummate guardian, had stepped forward to allow Keith a moment to scrub at the dampness on his face in relative privacy.

“Guys, this is-- It looks great. You all did such an amazing job.” The older paladin was saying. Keith could hear how genuinely touched he was with the effort that the others had put into the meal.

Keith was touched as well but was having a much more difficult time than he expected with reigning it in. He was still trying to breathe around the itchy weight in the base of his throat when he turned to offer the rest of the group a watery smile.

“Yeah,” He managed haltingly. “It- I’m really hungry so-- It’s good. Thanks.”

It wasn’t until Keith hiccupped on the ‘thanks’ that he realized that his eyes were spilling over with the tears he had been fighting so valiantly to keep in check. Hissing out a string of violent curses, Keith turned aside. This was what he had wanted to avoid, what he hadn’t wanted the others to see. Exposing himself like this left him feeling too unprotected, too vulnerable. He dug the heels of his palms fiercely into the sockets of his eyes.

All at once a pair of slender arms were catching Keith about his middle. Then Pidge was speaking, voice low and muffled against the fabric his shirt.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. Don’t ever do that again, you big ass! You scared the crap out of us!” She scolded.

Keith felt his heart slam painfully in his chest when he realized she was trembling in his arms. He barely had time to formulate a response before Keith felt himself enveloped again, this time by Hunk who was sniffling as well.

“Yeah, man,” Hunk was saying, voice thick. “We almost lost you, you gotta be more careful.”

Even Lance had somehow wiggled his way into the embrace. Distantly Keith was aware that the blue paladin seemed to be cursing him out, albeit in muffled starts and stops, in what sounded like Spanish.

To feel so valued and cared for was something that Keith wasn’t entirely accustomed to. He could count the people who had offered him such unconditional affection, prior to meeting the others, on two fingers alone. It was a little overwhelming to feel so flayed apart and loved at the same time. For a moment it was okay, until it _wasn’t_. Feeling smothered and over overstimulated, Keith stiffened. He wanted to extricate himself from the tight knot of bodies surrounding him, and struggled with getting away. Somehow it wasn’t surprising when Shiro spoke up.

“Okay guys, you’re going to suffocate him. Let Keith have a chance to breathe for a second.” Their leader chided gently.

Keith sagged a bit in relief when Lance, Pidge, and Hunk drew away. They all wore the same sheepish, if not teary eyed, expression. The mild panic receded, and Keith offered his friends a small smile. He was about to assure them he was fine when Allura collided with him and pulled him in to a quick, fierce hug.

“We were _all_ worried about you.” She explained as she eased back.

Keith wasn’t sure how to respond to that so he offered up a solemn nod instead. Beside him, Shiro had drawn up close to set a hand on his shoulder. Feeling more grounded, Keith looked up to find that he was being watched expectantly by his friends. His thoughts were a jumbled mess spinning in circles and it took him a moment to collect them.

 “Thanks.” Keith said at length. “For worrying and… All this.”

“We’re just glad you’re back.” Lance replied, tone devoid of its usual swaggering bravado.

“You really did give us quite the turn.” Coran added rather grimly from the back of the group.

It was almost too much. Keith swallowed heavily, hating the way his eyes began to itch again and the traitorous little lurch under his breastbone. Unbidden, a quiet, indistinct noise loosed itself from between his pursed lips. On his shoulder, Shiro’s grip tightened a fraction. Rooted to the spot, Keith forced himself the breath carefully through the tumult of emotion. When he realized that he was being examined like some unknown quantity on the verge of flying apart, he huffed out in irritation.

“I’m kind of fucking over all this mushy crap. Can we eat now please? ” He demanded, if not a touch petulantly.

At Keith’s side Shiro didn’t even bother to chide Keith for his language. The way that the other pilot’s nostrils flared told Keith that Shiro wanted to, but that he had decided to keep quiet instead. In fact, it was a good long moment before anyone said anything at all. The silence stretched long, and then Pidge snorted loudly in amusement. Six sets of eyes swiveled in her direction when she began to laugh outright.

“ _What_?” She managed between her sniggering. “That was funny. How was that _not_ funny?”

Keith wasn’t sure what it was that the youngest paladin found so amusing, but Hunk had seemingly cottoned on as well and had started laughing too. Lance followed suit not two ticks later, leaving Keith even more at a loss.

“I don’t get it.” Keith grunted in irritation.

Turning, he found Shiro’s eyes twinkling with mirth. A bemused grin was playing on his lips. But Keith’s comment had only prompted Pidge’s to cackle out more loudly which set Lance and Hunk off as well. Begrudgingly, Keith felt his frown tip up into an exasperated smile.

“Okay, okay that’s enough.” Shiro scolded with a  laugh a few moments later.

“Aw, C’mon, Shiro. You can’t tell me that wasn’t hilarious.” Pidge argued. She was still giggling a bit.

“Yeah, man. That was just so...so... _Keith_.” Hunk added, coming to Pidge’s defense. Off to the side of them Allura made a quiet, considering sound.

“Ah, I see now.” The Princess said.

At least Keith hadn’t been the only one who hadn’t gotten the joke. It made sense now. Sort of. Still, the heaviness of the moment had been blown aside and Keith felt all the lighter for it. Shrugging away from Shiro’s grip on his shoulder, Keith stepped forward to issue a light cuff to Hunk’s bicep.

“ _Whatever_ , Big Man. But can we seriously eat now? I literally haven’t eaten real food in forever.” Keith pointed out only to be unexpectedly swooped up off his feet as Hunk gave him yet another squeezing hug.

“Anything you want, little buddy.” The yellow paladin replied, sounding equal parts elated and teary-eyed.

“Aww, man. Don’t tell him that, Hunk.” Lance cut in once Keith had been set back to his footing. “It’ll go to his head and he’ll be a total ass about it. All insufferable and crap.”

“Wow, big word. You look that up in the dictionary all by yourself?” Pidge interrupted with a smirk. She snatched Keith’s hand as she breezed past to drag him toward the table. Lance, seeing the green paladin’s move, appeared to have other ideas.

“Hey, _no way_. I call dibs on sitting beside Keith.” He announced, making a grab for Keith’s other hand.

“What? no way, man. I call dibs too!” Hunk declared.

“I had him first, though.” Pidge cut in and suddenly Keith found himself in the middle of a battle in which he was the prize.

It was just as ridiculous as it was flustering. In the end, though, it was Allura who ended the argument by steering Keith away from the other three to seat him next to her. Shiro flanked him on the other side, much to the disappointment of the other combatants. Even so, dinner was still a lively affair and Keith found that he loved it.

Hunk had outdone himself with the food, especially given the alien components. In all honesty, Keith would have been just as pleased with the usual green goo the castle produced in abundance, but this was pure heaven.

Even Allura had pitched in, and it had been her hand that had crafted the edible flora decorating the cake. It was delicious, all of it. More than once during the meal, Keith found himself having to pause to force the lump in throat back down into the cage of his chest where it belonged. If any of the others were dismayed by his reserved quietness, they didn’t let on. The conversations carried on, inclusive of Keith’s presence, but without expectation of his having to actively participate. It wasn’t until Allura began to discuss what had happened in the aftermath of the battle with Zarkon that Keith found his voice again.

 “Lance and Pidge were together when Shiro found them. The three of them were able to get back to the castle without much trouble. Hunk was stranded in hostile territory so it took a while to get to him.” Allura explained. “After that, we started looking for you. You were so far out that we weren’t able to pick up your beacon until Pidge and Hunk amplified the range on the scanning sensors.”

“But how were you able to find me? I mean after the beacon stopped working.” Keith questioned.

“By the time we were able to pin-point the signal we knew roughly where to start looking.” Coran continued. “The Princess, as you know, is connected to the lions and can sense them when close enough. But even with the beacon she was having a hard time.”

Hard time? How was that possible? Keith frowned, about to speak up when Pidge cut in.

“We think it was because Red was so badly damaged.”

Keith swiveled his gaze in the green paladin’s direction. She was thoughtfully nibbling on a piece of cake.

“That still doesn’t explain how you were able to get to me on time. Even if you knew what planet I was on, you still would’ve had to search the whole damn thing to find me. Especially without exact coordinates.” Keith replied, still trying to piece together the story.

Around him, his fellow paladins exchanged a glance. There was something going on here that hadn’t been explained yet. A thread of unease spooled out in Keith’s gut, and he frowned as he turned to pin Shiro with a questioning look.

“It was Red,” The eldest pilot said after a long moment. “Or at least we’re fairly sure it was.”

 

Confusion jangled Keith’s nerves, plucking uneasily at something that he only half-remembered.

 

“What do you mean?” He asked, cautious and a bit breathless. Dreams of flying, of searching and of the vast, endless darkness of space flashed at the forefront of his mind. Keith felt his skin prickle and erupt in gooseflesh.

“We’re not really sure,” Shiro said gently.

He reached out to capture Keith’s hand in his own and gave it a squeeze. His expression was marred by a worried frown and Keith realized his own face was twisted in to a stricken grimace. He pinched his lips together, trying to find some semblance of balance.

“We were headed toward the signal when it stopped.” Shiro continued. “The Princess could feel Red, but couldn’t find her and then--”

“--Then the Red Lion was gone.” Allura finished, interrupting.

“Gone? That makes no sense. Red was with me the entire time. I could feel her with me except right after the crash. _She was there_.” Keith shot back, defensive.

Across the table Allura went on, unfazed by Keith’s heat.

“The way you feel the lions and the way I do is completely different,” She began. “It’s like knowing someone is in the room versus being with them and having a conversation in a mutual language. I can understand, when they choose to speak to me, but I can’t force any of them to communicate when they do not wish it. Especially when they ‘leave the room’ so to speak. The Red Lion left the room. Does that make sense?”

It did. A bit. Even so, Keith wasn’t exactly sure he could explain what had happened. He knew irrefutably that Red had been with him through the entirety of his ordeal on that sandy planet. Even when he’d been insensible and on the verge of slipping away he had felt her. Stronger perhaps in that moment than he had at any other point. Anxiously, he felt himself reach toward the lion. She didn’t respond, but Keith felt her presence slumbering in the back of his mind.

“Then what?” He pressed after a moment.

“Then it was like shouting.” Pidge explained with a shiver.

“Allura couldn’t sense Red, but the other Lions apparently could.” Shiro clarified “We were headed in the direction that the last ping from the beacon had come from and then-- I’m not sure. It was a bit like when the radio comes on at full volume. You hear it and you know what your ears are hearing but you can’t quite process it.”

“Green went nuts,” Pidge cut in. “She was scared and flashing all these weird pictures in my head.”

“Yeah. Blue did the same thing. But there was no way to cut the volume. It was crazy, Black was the only one who didn’t freak out.” Lance added, only to have Hunk pick of the thread of the conversation a tick later.

“Our Lions were just sort of going haywire and putting all these things in our heads. Feelings and pictures and stuff. It was awful. Then Black made this terrible sound that sort of went in through us and everything went quiet. I could feel it in my _bones_ , man. It was the worst. ”

It must have been if the look on Hunk’s face was anything to go by. Grim and closed off, Keith noted that Lance and Pidge wore similar haggard expressions. Even Coran and Allura were uncharacteristically quiet. It was Shiro who finally broke tense silence.

“Red was reaching out to the other lions, we were able to find you because of her. Once everyone calmed down Black followed Red’s call.”

Suddenly, it made sense. The strange dreams, the way Red had sunk her proverbial claws into Keith and had refused to let him go; the way that Keith had felt both bigger and more infinite than himself in those odd moments of clarity. Red had used her own consciousness to keep Keith’s from slipping away. She had known that help was coming and had refused to let Keith die. Red had saved him, utterly and entirely.

The urge to flee to the hanger was strong enough that Keith burst upright, chair tipping with a crash as he stood. The others startled, and Shiro reached out, perhaps by instinct, to capture Keith by the forearm.

“I have to-- Red, she..” Keith tried to explain helplessly.

Shiro, blessedly, seemed to understand completely. “Okay. It’s fine. I’ll go with you.” He said, voice low and soothing.

It was the urgency to be at Red’s side and the strange jittery feeling of the world tilting on its axis that had Keith twisting away to snarl out at the older man.

“No!”

Keith’s tone took even himself aback. He stilled, closing himself off to the hard look in Shiro’s eyes.

“Sorry, I-- I’m sorry.” Keith amended, even as he felt the faint, angry shimmer of Red’s presence waking in his mind. She was annoyed now, she didn’t want Keith near her if all he was going to do was fuss and feel sorry for himself. He bent to pick up his chair, then sat down heavily feeling small and sullen.

At Keith’s side, Shiro was radiating his own hurt anger. His voice was just tight enough that he gave himself away to Keith’s ears when he spoke.

“I’ll stay if you want to go.” He said simply. Keith’s gut roiled with guilt.

“No, Red’s angry now. She wants to be left alone.” Keith replied quietly.

“...Well, she is a bit temperamental.” Pidge cut in, albeit cautiously. “We’ve been trying to do repairs but she doesn’t seem to like us messing around with her systems. Maybe she’s just... I dunno. Maybe she was worried about you too.”

“I have the feeling that now that Keith is up and about it will probably go easier.” Allura pointed out. Her gaze swung from where it was fixed on Pidge to where Keith was slumped in his chair.

He slid down further, distracted by Shiro beside him. The black paladin was holding himself rigid with such military precision that Keith knew he’d done more damage than he’d intended. Around him the conversation carried on, heedless of any input that Keith might’ve put in. Hunk was discussing the finer points of the repairs he and Pidge were working on when Keith reached beneath the table to hesitantly tangle Shiro’s fingers with his own. For a moment the other pilot stiffened, seemingly as if to pull away. But then his posture eased a bit and Keith felt the coolness of mechanized fingers tightening against his own.

 

His apology, at least for now, had been accepted.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long guys, I meant to have this up a few days ago but I've been really sick. That and I've deleted and re-written the end of this like a million times. I'm still not 100% satisfied but I think I'm just being too picky lol. Something about being hopped up on cold meds makes it a little hard to concentrate on writing. Anyway, thanks for all the comments and kudos, I hope you've enjoyed this installment of Constant Satellite. Hoping to get started on the next part soon. As always you can find me on tumblr @ Inkfishie
> 
> Enjoy! :)

 

 

Throughout the remainder of dinner Keith still burned with guilty unease. It wasn’t until they had all parted ways, sleepy and warmed by several glasses of Coran’s surprisingly delicious Altean wine, that Keith felt the knot of agitation begin to unravel. Of course by that time he and Shiro had said their goodnights to the others and were tucked away in the quiet of their shared room.

Stood beside the bed, Keith pinched his eyes shut. Behind him, Shiro was moving about like an angry storm cloud as he got himself ready for bed. There was a traitorous little voice in Keith’s head telling him that he had done this, that this was his fault. Eventually, Keith felt Shiro slide up behind him to hook an arm across his chest. Keith sighed as he rocked back into Shiro’s body. He felt warm, muzzy from the wine and a bit stuck in his own head. The guilt from having hurt Shiro earlier was still a dull throb under his ribs.

For a moment Keith remained as he was. Then, blowing out a heavy breath, he made to turn in Shiro’s arms. He wanted to apologize again. Shiro beat him to the punch.

“No, it’s fine. I know you didn’t mean it, or the way it came across.”

“But I hurt you.” Keith countered stubbornly.

“A bit. But that was my fault. I’ll live.” The older pilot replied, voice firm.

Keith scowled. It didn’t sit well but there had been a finality to Shiro’s response that told Keith not to push it. Grunting out in annoyance, Keith shifted restlessly. He was unable to find the right words to articulate what it was that his slippery thoughts were trying to communicate. Instead, he plucked at the hand splayed across his chest and dipped to place a kiss in the smooth coolness of the metal palm. For a few more ticks it was silent, then Keith was turning to glance over his shoulder at the other pilot.

“Take me to bed?” He asked carefully, tone quiet and perhaps a touch raspy.

Even in the dimness, Keith was able to make out the sudden flush that colored Shiro’s skin and the way that inky, dark lashes lowered infinitesimally. When the older paladin spoke, his voice had gone low and husky. It was a dangerous little rumble that had Keith shivering with want at the sound of it.

“Yeah, _okay_.”

 

***

 

Keith was trapped. Blazing heat was burning him from the inside out. It was like the sun itself had pushed its way down his throat, choking him with the heat of it. Coughing, clawing at the vulnerable skin there, it came away in molten ribbons of flesh. He screamed and screamed and screamed, but the sound was ripped from him as Keith’s body was scorched away to ash. Jolting awake, a silent screamed trapped in his mouth, Keith shook with terror in the suffocating warmth of Shiro’s arms. Squirming away, he tumbled from the tangle of blankets and to the floor in a graceless heap.

Atop the mattress Shiro stirred, making a soft grunting sound. Keith clamped a quaking hand over his own mouth to muffle the horrible, whining sound of his breathing. He was still trembling with the aftershock of the dream when Shiro’s voice cut through the darkness, slurred and thick with sleep.

“Babe? Wha’s wrong?”

Keith held himself still, forcing his lungs to work as they were meant to.

“Nothing. Got too hot. Go back to sleep Takashi.” Keith replied in a voice that was barely above a strained whisper. It was a lie of course, and for a moment it seemed as though Shiro had seen through it. Keith took a careful breath, tensing a little when he felt Shiro’s fingers tickling at the ends of his sweat-damp hair.

“Come back t’bed soon?” The other paladin asked. Keith’s reply was a soft grunt of appeasement.

When Shiro’s breathing finally evened out after what seemed like a lifetime, Keith rose silently to search out his clothing in the dark. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep again for a while, and the last thing he wanted was for Shiro to worry. Wiggling into first his jeans and then his tee shirt, Keith was jamming his feet into his boots when Shiro stirred again on the bed.

There was a tense moment of apprehension on Keith’s part, but eventually, the slumbering paladin stilled after rolling onto his back. Keith let loose a soft breath of relief and made his way toward the bedroom door. The woosh of it seemed loud in the stillness of the sleeping castle, but it didn’t appear to disturb Shiro. Shooting a quick glance backward, Keith moved out into the hall. Then he was setting off in the direction of the hangar.

Red was waiting when he arrived; a silent behemoth standing guard in the night. Under the glare of the lights, the damage seemed harsh despite the evidence that repairs were being made. The battered plates of Red’s hull had been removed to expose the inner workings beneath. A multitude of cables had been connected to the lion and ran from its body into a large console settled on the floor of the hangar. Keith noted that Pidge’s computer was hooked to the console as well, the idle screen played an animation of cartoon cats in their paladin colors.

Smiling as he approached, Keith noted the lambent, yellow glow in Red’s eyes. The glass had been replaced, and Keith was relieved to note that her head dipped down in greeting when he placed a hand to the coolness of one of her massive paws.

“Hey,” He greeted quietly. The lion’s response was a warm rumble in his mind. “Can I come up?”

The rush of happiness when Red lowered her head to allow Keith entrance was immediate. He found himself grinning as he jogged up into the Lion’s mouth. Reaching out toward her as he made his way up onto the flight deck, Keith felt an answering thrum of contentment.

That Hunk and Pidge had been busy was clear. They had pulled off paneling on the flight console to reveal the mess of wiring and machinery beneath, and a box of slightly odd-looking Altean tools was settled nearby. Keith could see why Red had been annoyed, and as he drew nearer to inspect the repairs he felt a ripple of ire tickle along their bond.

“Sorry, I’ll leave it,” Keith said reluctantly as he drew away from the console.

Red didn’t want him poking and prodding it seemed. Instead, he took a few steps back and found himself sitting down in the pilot’s chair. Fingers moving instinctually to the script etched into the otherwise smooth metal, Keith tipped his head back to settle himself more comfortably.

“They told me what happened,” Keith spoke out loud, his gaze fixed on the ceiling of the cockpit. “I’m not sure what you did, but I know you saved my life.” he went on, pausing when he felt a soft growl of warning on Red’s part. She wouldn’t tolerate self-pity, it seemed. Keith huffed out a laugh, even as he tamped down the swell of emotion.

“Sorry, I’m being a sap. I just, well. You know,” Keith said and found himself smiling.

He didn’t have to explain, Red knew. She had always known. She had been able to read every little hurt in Keith’s steel box of a heart since the very start. In a way, she was very much the same as Keith. Red knew the pain of love and loss and of being left behind. She knew what it was to cling stubbornly to survival and to live despite the odds stacked in her favor.

In Keith’s mind Red’s presence grew large, their connection ablaze with an infinite loop of protective fury. Then Red was nudging Keith away with far more gentility than was her typical fare. Keith smiled as he scrubbed at his face with the palms of his hands.

“If that wasn’t a bonding moment I don’t know what is.” He commented with a note of sarcasm. If Red could have rolled her eyes she probably would have. Keith snorted out a wet laugh.

 

 

***

 

 

This time when Keith woke it was to the weight of something being draped across his body. Oddly he’d been dreaming of cool, dark skies and endless fields of fragrant wild flowers. Blinking awake, Keith wasn’t surprised to find Shiro hovering close by. Knelt in front of Keith’s chair, the older pilot’s face was softened into an unguarded expression of aching misery. Keith wasn’t sure what to make of it, only that it left Shiro looking so very young and adrift. Keith shifted upright and found his own coat slipping down into his lap.

“Takashi?” He asked, frowning.

In the scant space that separated them, Shiro gave a bit of a start. Immediately his face schooled itself into something soft and apologetic. Keith didn’t like it.

“Hey, you. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Shiro offered quietly.

“’S fine,” Keith began, voice raspy and slurred by sleep. “What’re you doing here?”

For a moment the carefully constructed look on Shiro’s face faltered, and Keith watched as the other pilot’s dark brows pinched down in a frown. Glancing aside then, Shiro lifted a hand to pull his fingers through his own snowy, white hair. It was a nervous little gesture that captured Keith’s attention immediately.

“I woke up. You weren’t there.” Shiro admitted finally, sounding a little self-conscious.

It took a moment for Keith to catch up, but when he did he blew out a thready breath. For a second Shiro’s gaze flicked aside and Keith followed it to where his own fingers were pressing into the etched script of the older man’s name unawares. Their eyes met, and Keith stilled his hand.

Somehow they were suddenly dancing on the edge of a blade and Keith realized that Shiro was on the verge of flying apart. Cursing himself, Keith shifted so that he could reach out and gather the other pilot closer. Shiro went willingly, shifting onto his knees so that he could drop his head into Keith’s lap.

“I’m being pretty damned ridiculous, huh?” Shiro asked, voice muffled by where he was pressed into Keith’s body. Frowning, Keith shook his head, even as he pressed his fingers into the cropped hair at the base of Shiro’s skull.

“No, you’re not,” He said firmly, even as he bent to drop a kiss to the top of the other paladin’s head.

It wasn’t ridiculous in the slightest, and Keith felt a pang of guilt as he realized how much of an idiot he had been. It was frighteningly easy for him to imagine how it must have played out. In his mind’s eye, Keith could picture it clearly: Shiro waking to an empty bed, likely in the throes of his own haunted dreams, to find Keith missing. From there Keith could imagine Shiro dressing with quick, precise movements and then making his way out into castle.

Had Shiro checked the training deck first? Or had he immediately come to the hangar to find Keith slumped in his lion? Had it reminded Shiro of how he and the others had found Keith not a handful of days ago?

Keith was an idiot. An absolute idiot.

“I had a nightmare and needed some space. I didn’t want to wake you, you needed to sleep.” Keith said in a rush as he tightened his arms around Shiro’s shoulders. “I’m an ass. I should have told you where I was going. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

But the confession seemed to draw Shiro away from the precipice they’d been standing on, and he shifted back on his heels to peer up at Keith with tired eyes.

“I still feel ridiculous,” The older man admitted quietly.

Once again storm cloud eyes flicked in the direction of the script etched into the arm of the chair. Making a soft, annoyed sound Keith reached out to snatch at Shiro’s chin to redirect his attention. After tensing slightly, the older paladin reluctantly swung his gaze in Keith’s direction.

“You are _not_ ridiculous. You’re allowed to feel however it is you need to feel,” Keith said with a snort. The pursed line of Shiro’s mouth quirked up in a bit of a smile, and it seemed as if he were about to say something but Keith cut him off abruptly. “I wanted to leave you something. A message or whatever, in case-- Well, you know. But it's fine now, or it will be anyway. _We’re_ going to be fine. Just let it be fine, Takashi.”

Across from where Keith sat, Shiro blew out a quiet breath. Then his smile was softening, growing more luminous as he pressed closer. He set a hand on Keith’s arm and give it a squeeze.

“You always say you’re no good with this sort of thing, but I think you’re better than you give yourself credit for, Keith,” Shiro said, voice quiet.

“Maybe,” Keith admitted at length. “But maybe I just know you.”

“Probably better than I know myself most days,” Shiro replied tone just a touch on the melancholy side.

Honestly, was probably true. Especially these days. But that was a road that Keith didn’t feel like traveling just now. Instead, he bent forward and stole a kiss from Shiro’s unsuspecting mouth. It was slow and sweet and had Shiro rumbling out a soft, pleased sound when Keith withdrew.

“You ready to come back to bed?” Shiro asked after a few quiet ticks.

His flesh-and-bone fingers were tracing idle patterns on Keith’s thigh and pressing soothingly into the muscle there. Sighing out quietly, Keith gave a nod. Then he was easing Shiro back so that they could both stand. Snatching up his jacket, Keith tugged it on. He noted the older pilot watching him carefully, and gave a bit of a shrug.

“What?” He asked, arching a brow.

“Nothing,” Shiro replied innocently, but he was ducking his head with a laugh. Keith frowned as he approached and pushed himself into the older pilot’s space. He angled a challenging look upward, only to find Shiro’s eyes crinkled in merriment.

“Nothing my ass. Spill it, Shirogane,” Keith shot back but found himself smiling as well.

Then, on a whim, he was shooting out a finger to jab the other paladin in the ribs. Shiro loosed a startled yelp and hopped away, but Keith followed close on his heels. He reached out to jab at Shiro again.

“I said spill it.”

“Fine, fine!” Shiro gasped between his laughter. “I was just thinking about how this reminded me of when we were kids.”

For a moment that gave Keith pause. Straightening up, he pinned Shiro with a curious look. “What do you mean?” He asked mouth pursing thoughtfully.

The older pilot, for his part, simply shook his head with a smile. Keith scowled and jabbed at Shiro once more, this time hard in the gut.

“Oompf. Christ that _hurt_. Settle down,” The older pilot huffed out with a laugh even as he clutched at his stomach. “I was just thinking about how you used to hide in the pantry cupboard when you were scared.”

Irrationally, Keith felt himself flush with embarrassment. He made to strike out at Shiro again, but this time found his hand caught up in the iron grip of Shiro’s fist. He snorted out in annoyance, letting his arm fall away.

“How is this even remotely similar? Oba never had a giant robot space lion in her cupboard.” Keith pointed out, only to feel his face burn hotter when Shiro stepped closer to brush his lips over the curve of Keith’s jaw.

“No, you’re right. She probably would’ve had a _fit_ if there were, but….I don’t know. Just something about having to come and find you.” Shiro returned, pressing their foreheads together.

“You always come looking for me, though.” Keith pointed out after a long moment. In response, Shiro’s lips curled up in a fond little smile. He brushed a thumb over the curve of Keith’s cheek.

“Old habits die hard I guess. I’ll always come looking for you.” Shiro said at length.

It had Keith pulling in a heavy breath around his heart which had suddenly leapt up into his throat. Eyes slipping shut, Keith exhaled a soft, surprised sound when he felt Shiro’s lips brushing across his brow and down over his eyelids scant moments later.

“Old habits. Tch,” Keith mumbled eventually. Eyes popping open, he gently pushed Shiro away. “If you’re so keen on reliving the past you can give me a ride back to bed.”

That prompted a laugh from the older man, but Keith was amused to note that he complied. Nimbly hopping up onto Shiro’s back, Keith found himself easily caught up by strong arms. Shiro hefted him up a bit to establish a better grip, but then they were setting off at an easy pace.

“There was a thunderstorm. On that planet,” Keith mused quietly after some time had passed. They had made their way nearly to the end of the long hallway that lead to the hangar and were close to the lift. “It reminded me of us. At the Garrison, on the roof. How we used to watch the storms blow in.”

Pressed so close, the soft considering sound Shiro made was easily heard. He nudged his head against Keith’s temple.

“Then what?” Shiro coaxed gently.

Keith tightened his arms around Shiro in an unconscious gesture and blew out a loud, long breath.

“It wasn’t bad at first. It was a bit like home but then...” Keith frowned at the memory, hating the way that it made his stomach churn with recollected fear and unease.

“Coran told us that the planet you were on is notorious for its weather patterns. It produces the most violent storm systems seen through five sectors. It’s a good thing your particle barrier was up and working.” Shiro cut in as he paused to heft Keith’s weight up and settle it more securely around his hips.

Somehow it wasn’t surprising. Not when the memory of it was so vivid in Keith’s mind. He shut his eyes, trying to banish the sound of hissing and the crack of thunder. He focused on Shiro’s steady gate, and the sound of his breathing. After a few ticks, Keith found his voice again.

“I’ll have to be sure to write to their tourism board and tell them that their planet is a shitty place for a vacation.” He commented dryly. The statement prompted an amused snort from the other paladin, and Keith found himself smiling as well.

“Good luck with that,” Shiro shot back. “According to Coran’s reports, there hasn’t been any sort of sustainable civilization there since damn near the dawn of time.”

Suddenly Keith was glad he hadn’t gone searching for help. He wondered if Red had known, if that was why she had kept Keith so close. Had it not been for the little push vibrating out along his connection with the lion, telling Keith to leave well enough alone, he might have asked her. Instead, he flattened a palm over the steady thump beneath Shiro’s breast bone, focusing on that bond instead.

By then they had nearly reached the barracks hall, and while Shiro wasn’t showing any sign of overt weariness, Keith still wriggled out of the other paladin’s grip to drop down to the floor. When Shiro turned to pin Keith with a curious glance, Keith found himself shrugging in response. He pushed up against Shiro’s side and looped an arm about the other man’s waist. An arm hooked itself around Keith’s shoulder, and he pressed closer to Shiro’s side. They walked the rest of the way to their room in companionable silence. When they arrived, the whoosh of the door opening brought a rush of cool air with it. For a second Keith frowned in confusion, he turned to fix Shiro with a questioning look even as the other man tugged him inside.

“You said you were hot. Before. I changed the settings on the climate controls, I thought it might help.” Shiro explained carefully.

Keith found himself at a bit of a loss, especially given Shiro’s predilection toward having the temperature set higher these days; no doubt a holdover from spending too many days in a cold prison cell. Turning, Keith slid in close and wrapped both arms around Shiro’s middle.

“You better not stick your feet on me if they get too cold.” He warned, voice tight and muffled against the solid plane of Shiro’s chest.

“I don’t think it’s my feet you’ll have to worry about, babe.” Shiro countered sarcastically.

For a moment Keith wasn’t sure how to react. Then, against all reason, he found himself quaking with laughter.

“Did you really just..?” He questioned through snorts of mirth. But Shiro had started to laugh as well, and Keith felt better for the sound of it. “That was not funny, Takashi. Not funny at all.” He managed.

It was a long while before Shiro was able to quell his own amusement enough to reply. “It was kind of funny.” he countered.

Keith lifted his chin to pin the other paladin with a pointed look. For the span of several ticks they simply looked at one another, then Shiro’s face was lighting up with a wolfish sort of grin. Keith huffed out a laugh and found himself mirroring Shiro’s smile.

 “Idiot.” He said fondly.

“Punk.” Shiro shot back just as affectionate.

Keith rolled his eyes and gave the older pilot a little shove. Then he was dragging Shiro down into a playfully heated kiss. It felt so good to be home at last.

 

Through his connection with Red, Keith felt his lion agree.

 

 

 

 

 

 ---------------------------

 

_I've made mistakes, but I believe_

_That everything was worth the fight_

_Cause in the end, the road is long_

_But only 'cause it makes you strong_

_It's filled with peaks and twists and turns_

_Sometimes you have to learn to forget about it_


End file.
